A to Z, an Anthology
by AngelQueen
Summary: A BMWW series of drabbles and one-shots, each chapter representing a letter of the alphabet. Chapters Twenty-Five and Twenty-Six: Y and Z are for...
1. A is for Agony

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. This series is written merely for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others and no currency exchanges hands.

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_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Agony**_

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It had taken some time for Diana to accept that, one day, her friends would die. Living on an island full of immortal women had never truly allowed for her to understand the concept of death. In all honesty, it was not until she had thought that she had witnessed the death of Superman from Toyman's weapon that Diana realized just how easily her friends could be taken from her.

Over time, though, she had come to grips with it as much as she could. If anything, it made her fight that much harder to protect them. She wanted them to remain with her for as long as possible. It might sound selfish, but she would rather that those mortals she loved die when they were frail and old and lying in a bed, than to the swift, merciless hands of war.

Perhaps it was because of this self-centered mindset that Diana had been barely able to function at _his_ funeral. Standing in a cemetery, disguised in black clothing with a black veil covering most of her face, she had only been able to stare blankly as a single coffin was lowered into the ground. The headstone had already been in place.

_Bruce Robert Wayne  
__Treasured son, benefactor of all.  
__1963 – 2009_

She hadn't said a word since Batgirl had informed her and the other Founders. While Shayera had raged, demanding to know who had killed their ally and friend, and the others had grieved openly, Diana had just… shut down, withdrawing into her own world.

Diana understood pain. She had felt it in battle often enough. This pain, though, was foreign to her. Bruce was gone. For good. There was no bringing him back, wherever he had gone. He had not been a believer in the power of the gods, so she did not know if he had been granted the solace of Elysium, where Persephone held sway and protected the worthy from the ravages of Hades and Tartarus. A part of her was afraid to ask, lest she find out that his soul, everything that made him _Bruce_, was damned to forever walk the universe without the peace that had been so cruelly denied him in life.

Diana thought that knowing he was dead and gone was the worst thing she could ever endure.

It wasn't. Learning that his death was a sham, a part of a plan to lure a villain out of the shadows, and that he had left her and those who loved him to think they had lost him was worse. Much, much worse.

"You're here," she breathed, staring at him.

"Yes."

She reached out, let her fingers run along his jaw reverently. He leaned into her touch, seeming to drink in her presence as much as she was his.

The silence was broken when her hand reared back and swung, landing on his cheek with a resounding slap.

Diana's hand stung. This was pain she could understand. She glared at him. "How dare you," she snarled. "How _dare_ you do this."

"I had to –" he started.

Diana cut him off. Everything she felt, everything that she had endured that he had caused, erupted. "And to hell with everyone who loves you! Do we mean _anything_ at all to you? _We thought you were dead, Bruce_!"

"_I know!_" he shouted back just as loudly. "Did you think I wanted to do it, Diana? Do you think I got some perverse pleasure in watching you suffer?" He stepped forward, gripping her shoulders tightly. Diana didn't even notice the bruising grip, just stared into his eyes like a mouse mesmerized by a snake.

"I had no choice, Diana! Absolutely none! Pemberton knew everything about me! If I went to anyone in the League, he would have found the rest of them, and many of them have more to protect than I do with their secret identities," he said, no longer shouting but his voice was still louder than normal. "The only way I could deal with him is if he thought Bruce Wayne was gone and no longer able to pursue him."

He didn't release his grip on her, but Diana didn't care. Her own hands came up to grip his arms. "Why not come to me?" she demanded. "I have no secret identity to protect. I –"

This time Bruce cut her off, only not with words. Instead, he used his lips, which smashed against hers heatedly. For a moment, she froze, shocked, but then felt no problem returning the assault with one of her own. War raged just as surely as their blood roared hot in their veins.

Seconds or minutes later, Diana felt her back slam against the wall, but neither of them even paused. Hands were everywhere, and she could hardly distinguish between hers and his.

She was still angry, so _angry_, at him… but he was _here_. He was warm and solid against her, and so _alive_. He had tortured her with this scheme, whether he'd meant to or not, but now he was here.

Their hands continued to roam, this time to remove various articles of clothing. Diana's breath hitched when Bruce lifted her up against the wall, and the brief pain that followed made her wince, but it quickly faded. The bliss that came after made her forget that physical soreness.

The emotional pain would be healed in time too. She hoped.

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**Agony:** n. great pain or anguish; intense emotion; suffering proceeding death _(literary)_.


	2. B is for Bounce

**Disclaimer:** I do not own_ Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. This series is written merely for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others and no currency exchanges hands.

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_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Bounce**_

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Founders' meetings always told Wally a lot. Not just in the subjects they discussed – the latest trouble in Kasnia, an upcoming meeting with King Faraday, and so on – but just how his friends and co-Founders were doing physically and sometimes even emotionally.

Clark was doing great, if the small, but persistent, smile on his face was anything to go by. He may have been the strongest man alive, but when it came to hiding his moods and emotions, Clark was even more hopeless than Wally was. Ever since the man had finally confessed to Lois Lane that her super-powered boyfriend and her partner from Smallville, Kansas were one and the same, he'd been on cloud nine. Of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that Lois had already figured it out and had just been waiting for him to tell her. She'd apparently made him sweat a bit on how angry she was at him for not being honest with her, but after that, things seemed to be okay, and the Man of Steel couldn't stop grinning.

J'onn was… at peace. That was the best Wally could describe it, and it was quite a comfort. Diana and the others weren't the only ones who had worried about J'onn over the years when he'd begun to isolate himself on the Watchtower after the League's expansion. Wally had tried to help in his own way, tried to show him the fun a guy could have on Earth, as well as remind him that preserving the big picture didn't give people the right to exclude the needs of the individual. Wally was the first to admit that some League members tended to forget that, and thus did his best to keep it from going too far. Still, ever since J'onn had taken a leave of absence from the League to explore Earth and ended up married in those months away, he had become far more comfortable, with both himself, as well as the people and world around him.

So J'onn and Clark seemed to have things going good in their lives, and Wally was thrilled for them. Still, for others, things weren't going so well. John and Shayera, to be specific. The dark clouds that hung between them had been there for years, really. Since the Thanagarian invasion. They'd begun to clear up when Shayera returned to the League, letting them work together as teammates and friends, but then, just a month or two before Darkseid's invasion, something had happened that made things go bad again. Then just a few months ago, John and Mari, who'd been dating for quite a while, broke up. Wally wasn't sure on the details, but he did know that Mari had been the one to end the relationship. He also knew that John had been watching Shayera pretty closely the past few weeks. The problem with that, though, was that Shayera wasn't available, as she was dating some British guy. Wally didn't think he could help them with their current issues, and he was pretty hesitant to try, lest they beat the crap out of him for being nosy or something.

Wally leaned back in his chair and glanced around. Clark was still going over the League mission reports, which Wally had already read before the meeting. The others might not believe it, but he wasn't lazy when it came to his League duties. He kept up with what happened with the other members.

Leaving Clark to continue, Wally noticed Diana shift in her seat out of the corner of his eye, and he turned his head slightly in her direction. The princess had an impatient look on her face, like she wanted to leave sooner rather than later. In short, she looked like Wally usually did when he was bored, practically bouncing in the chair with barely-controlled energy.

Frowning slightly, he focused his gaze on her. Diana was usually much more patient than that. Usually she sat with that special poise of hers, next to the dark and silent form of Bruce, hardly moving except when to offer an opinion. Now it was like she was on the verge of squirming in her seat like a restless kid! Her hands were folded in front of her, but Wally could see the white knuckles and the sparkle on her left hand…

Wally blinked and stared more closely at the sparkle. _Shit on a brick, is that…?_

It was – a diamond ring on her left ring finger. An _engagement_ ring.

_OhmygodohmygodohmygodDiana'sengagedholyshitwho –_

He froze. Just _who_ was she engaged to? He knew Diana had dated King Faraday for a little while, but that hadn't lasted more than a couple months. As far as Wally knew, the princess hadn't dated anyone since.

He glanced at Bruce, who sat next to Diana, as always. The man showed nothing of what he was thinking, as always. Still, Wally knew that when Bats was pissed or upset about something, it was tangible. Even if he didn't say a word, people could still sense that he was just a hair away from unleashing apocalyptic badness.

So, fact: Diana was engaged. Fact: Bats wasn't drowning in a pool of angst and misery because of it. Probable conclusion: Bats knew and was happy about it. Therefore, Bats was probably the one who gave Diana the rock.

Wally bit his lip to keep from grinning. Now he understood why Diana was so edgy. He felt the same way, now. Now he couldn't wait to for the damn meeting to end so he could grill both her and Bats. Pretty soon, _he_ was going to be bouncing in his seat too.

_Woohoo!_ He cheered silently. _Good times ahead!_

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**Bounce:** v. spring away from surface; jump up and down; move up and down on spot.


	3. C is for Chill

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely wrote this series for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

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_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Chill**_

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Diana dodged a plethora of vines that swung high, all of them seeking to catch her and squeeze the breath from her lungs. Instead the vines hit the wall of a nearby building, leaving a considerable dent. Apparently Poison Ivy was getting frustrated with her.

This entire battle was a little strange. Aside from the Joker, Batman's rogues rarely appeared outside of Gotham City to cause trouble. Certainly not in Central City, of all places. The city had no value to them. Gotham was where Batman was, the one they wished to prove themselves against.

An overgrown stem with large, sharp-looking thorns came at Diana's head next and she ducked. Reaching for her lasso, Diana quickly took to the air and dove over the assaulting greenery. A split second later, she spotted the source and darted toward her.

Poison Ivy saw her coming and Diana could see the anger in the other woman's green eyes. She could almost _feel_ the villainess summoning her plants to a close-quarters battle, so she swung her lasso, catching Poison Ivy in its coil. She struggled, but Diana tugged hard and sent her to the cement.

Leaving her tied up on the ground, Diana turned to look a small distance away, intending to assist Superman with –

"Diana, look –"

A screaming blast hit Diana square in the back, knocking her forward and to her knees. Then there was cold. A terrible, unrelenting cold, which was followed by an inky darkness.

When consciousness returned, Diana still felt chilled. Even when she opened her eyes to the afternoon sun pouring in from open French doors along with a warm breeze that flung sheer white curtains inward, Diana was cold. She quietly sank back into the burrow of warmth that surrounded her in the bed she currently occupied.

"Ah, welcome back, your Highness."

Diana's eyes flickered to her right. Sitting next to the bed was Alfred, who was smiling at her gently. "I must say, your Highness," he continued, "you gave us all quite a scare."

She had? Diana swallowed and opened her mouth. Her voice was hoarse from lack of use, but she managed to rasp out, "Wh-What happened?"

"I believe it was Mr. Freeze," the butler answered. "His ice weapon packs quite a punch, even on the more powerful metahumans." He reached over to the nightstand and picked up a glass of water and held it out to her. Diana pulled one arm out from under the white comforter to take it and drink. After a moment, she handed it back and returned her arm to the warm cocoon it had been resting in.

"Master Bruce was quite concerned," Alfred spoke up. "After he and Mr. Kent brought you back here, he insisted on calling in Doctor Thompkins to see that you recovered correctly."

"Doctor Thompkins?"

"An old friend of the Wayne family," he explained. "She has seen Masters Bruce, Dick, and Tim through many serious injuries over the years. In the absence of the Watchtower's facilities, Master Bruce felt she was the best one to call on."

Diana nodded, glancing around. She was actually beginning to feel a bit better. Most likely her own natural healing abilities were kicking in even more rapidly now that she was conscious. She would probably be up and about by supper.

"Where is Bruce?" she asked, returning her gaze to Alfred as she sat up to stretch her back a bit. That allowed her to see the older man close off his expression and his lips to tighten in what she thought might be disapproval.

"He has gone to supervise the construction of the new Watchtower today," he told her. "He maintained that it had reached a phase where his presence was necessary."

"Oh." Her disappointment was tangible as Diana leaned back against the pillows again. A shiver swept through her body.

Alfred seemed to sense her sudden feelings of melancholy and he stood up. "He should likely return to the Manor soon, your Highness," he said. "I will inform him that you are awake when he arrives. Would you have me send him up here?"

Diana bit her lip. A good question. She knew very well from just the other day that the construction of the new Watchtower was going along just fine, that it needed no supervision. Why then wasn't Bruce here? She knew he was a busy man, with his business and the aspects of his cases that he could use the day time to work on.

"If he wants to," she murmured, "I'm sure he'll come up here."

Alfred bowed his head silently and soon left the room, leaving Diana alone. She glanced out the French doors again. Despite the golden sunlight, she could still feel the chill in her bones.

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**Chill:** n. moderate coldness; depressing effect; lack of emotional warmth.


	4. D is for Dream

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

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_A to Z, an Anthology**  
Dream**_

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Laughter permeated the grounds as a plethora of children raced through the gardens, leaping over bushes and skipping over flowerbeds. Diana laughed when her two sons tackled Shayera and John's son to the ground. Wally and Clark's daughters, not to be out done, raced toward them as well. J'onn and his wife's adopted son, much younger than the other children, toddled after them.

Diana glanced over at Shayera, who was grinning as she filled her plate with food from the buffet in front of them. The Thanagarian was pregnant with her second child, and if anything her cravings were even worse than they had been during her first pregnancy.

She then looked to her right. Wally, John, Clark, and Lois were all sitting around one of the tables, their plates cleared away and replaced by cards and chips. Clearly someone had pulled out a poker set – probably Wally. Diana watched as they laid their cards down one by one, beginning with Wally. The speedster grew more and more cheerful as the others put their hands down, until they got to Lois. When he saw her cards, his jaw dropped and his shoulders slumped. Lois grinned at him smugly.

Arms wrapped around her from behind and Diana automatically leaned back.

"Everyone having a good time?" Bruce asked.

She nodded. "Oh, I think so," she replied. "How's Alfred?"

"Still worrying over the dessert tray. He isn't sure he made a big enough chocolate cake."

Diana turned in his embrace and looked up at her husband. She laughed. "Given that the sheet cake is nearly the size of the kitchen island, I don't think it'll be a problem."

Bruce smirked. "I think someone mentioned Shayera's appetite to him."

They both glanced over at the pregnant Thanagarian, who had joined the card-playing group and was happily eating from her plate while watching the new round that had begun. Diana then looked back at Bruce. Smiling, she pushed up on her toes to steal a kiss –

"Mom! Dad! They won't let me play soccer with them!"

"Yes we did! We said he could play keeper!"

"I don't wanna be keeper!"

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Diana sat on her bed, leaning against the wall with her legs drawn up against her chest. Her head rested against the wall, her eyes far away.

Hippolyta sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her daughter, surprised beyond words. "I… I had no idea," she breathed.

Diana blinked and turned her head to look at her. "You asked me what I see in my dreams, Mother," she murmured. "Now you know." She sighed quietly. "I dream of things that can no longer be."

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**Dream: **n. sequence of mental images while asleep; something hoped for; something beautiful.


	5. E is for Eavesdrop

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Justice League or Justice League Unlimited. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

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_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Eavesdrop**_

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Wally zipped toward the Metro Tower conference room, two iced mochas in his hands. The meeting wasn't due to start for another hour, but he figured this was the best time to catch up on the mission reports he'd been putting off for the past week. When he approached the door, though, Wally could hear raised voices coming from inside.

"… don't know what you're talking about." Wally immediately recognized Bats' cranky and unemotional drone.

"Oh please, Bruce," a second voice replied, which he identified as Diana's, "you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"We're not having this discussion here, Princess."

"If not here, then where? The Watchtower? The Cave? You keep avoiding the subject by avoiding me," Diana snapped.

Wally blinked. He hadn't known that Bats and Wondy were having problems. He'd actually thought they were two of the more tightly-knit Founders. Bats was hardly the type to get along with people, but Diana had always seemed like an exception for that, even in the early days. While Bats was known to growl and snarl at the rest of them, he never really seemed to do so at her. What was happening to get them so out of sync?

"Bruce," Diana continued, her voice quieter, "I can't carry this all by myself. You promised you would do your part –"

"I said that I would do what I could, but Gotham came first. You knew that when we started this, Diana. You went into this with your eyes open."

Wally swallowed hard. _Holy shit…_ If they were talking about what he _thought_ they were talking about, then Bats and Diana were… dating? Doing the naked mambo? Both? Apparently Bats wasn't carrying his part of the relationship. He winced.

"I know that Gotham comes first, Bruce," Diana replied, sounding as though she was speaking through clenched teeth. "I am not disputing that. You know I never would ask you to neglect the city's needs. Not for this, not for anything. Still, I don't think I'm asking too much for you to put some effort into this."

There was a moment of silence, then Bats shot back, "Well, obviously, you were wrong. If you can't handle that, then find someone else."

_Ouch. Damn, Bruce, tell her how you really feel. Don't hold back or anything._ Though, Wally had a feeling that if Bruce kept this up, Diana might end up showing how she felt as well, starting with punching him in the face.

In the interests of harmony, though, Wally figured he better go in now. He didn't think Bats would be able to hide a broken jaw from the rest of the gang or the idiots he pummeled on a nightly basis. Taking a deep breath, he kicked the door open and walked inside. "Hey Bats, Princess," he said cheerfully, "whatcha up to? Meeting doesn't start for a while yet."

Now that he was in the room, Wally got a good look at what they were doing physically. Bruce was over at the computer terminal, typing furiously with his back to both him and Diana. Wally tried not to glare at the other man. He hadn't even given the princess the courtesy of _looking_ at her? _Being a prick today, Bruce?_ Wally thought angrily.

"Hello, Wally," Diana replied from her spot at the table. She had various papers spread out around her. He moved closer, holding one of the iced mochas out to her. She took it with a grateful smile, and then nodded at the paperwork. "I'm trying to organize the surprise party for Clark's birthday. Some people, though," she said while glaring pointedly in Bruce's direction, "are not helping out when they promised that they would."

_What? Clark's birthday?_ Wally stared at the princess. _That_ was what the whole argument was about? Bruce was dumping all the preparations for the party on Diana? Jeez, the man was hardly known for being the life of the party when he was in costume, but Wally knew very well that the man could plan a bash in a heartbeat, seeing as his everyday cover was that of a notorious party man.

After several moments, he slowly began to grin. If Bats wanted to be an asshole about it, then Wally could make sure the other man got as good as he gave. "Well," he said, taking the seat and scooting it close to Diana before sitting in it, "if you really need help with a party, then look no further! You're talking to an expert in putting together parties that'll be remembered for _years_!" He waggled his eyes at her. "Think about it, Wondy. You 'n me can cut a million rugs while Bats stomps in, glares at everyone, hands Supes his cash, and stomps out like a drama queen."

Diana stared at him with an amused look, but Wally heard the key-tapping suddenly stop and Bats growl faintly.

Wally just kept grinning.

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**Eavesdrop:** v. listen secretly.

**Author's Note:** When I was writing the chapters for this story, I did so in a rather ramshackle order. It's because of this that Bounce and Eavesdrop -- both from Wally's point of view -- are so close together. It was not done intentionally.


	6. F is for Fracture

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Justice League or Justice League Unlimited. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

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_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Fracture**_

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It was almost ridiculous, how quickly life as one knew it could end. One moment, everything was as it had been for years, and the next, everything that had been counted for so long had suddenly been called into question.

Diana didn't go into Gotham City very often, officially or in civilian garb. Bruce had made his opinion known to everyone in the League for years concerning how he felt about metahumans coming into his city. Diana, though, occasionally liked to spend time in the so-called City of Darkness. The museums were interesting, and it had always been entertaining to see how long it would take for Bruce to become aware that she had come into the city. Diana could always count on a growling lecture about 'nosing around where she had no business' before the day was done.

Walking down the street, Diana glanced over at Gotham Metropolitan Library. It was a Sunday, so the library's hours were limited to one p.m. to five. She looked at the watch on her wrist. Twelve-forty-four.

With sixteen minutes to kill, Diana walked over to a newsstand set up but a few yards away from the library's doors. Smiling at the man running the stand, Diana stared perusing some of the international papers. She quickly spotted one with Audrey's picture on its front page.

_Queen of Kasnia Engaged!_

_Former party princess ties the knot with Greek scholar!_

Her lips twitching, Diana picked up a copy of the paper and began skimming the article. She'd known about Audrey's engagement to Nicodemus long before it had hit the papers, and it was highly amusing to watch the press react to one of their favorite international jetsetters deciding to settle down with a single man.

Once she finished the article, she put the paper back in its appropriate pile before glancing at her watch again. Twelve-fifty-two.

_Eight more minutes…_

Diana turned back to the papers, leaving the international news section for the section housing the papers from the United States. She bypassed _The Daily Planet_, having read it earlier that morning, and found her looking at the Gotham-based newspapers. Looking over the headlines, Diana froze.

_Wayne Getting Hitched!_

_Gotham Philanthropist to Marry Supervisor of Charitable Foundation!_

_Wayne + Head = Match Made in Gotham?_

_Bruce Wayne Engaged!_

Diana could barely force herself to keep breathing. It felt like someone had grabbed her by the throat and was slowly squeezing it closed. She stared at the pictures. She recognized Talia Head, no, Talia_ al Ghul_, easily enough. Diana had never met the woman, but she had read the files that Bruce had put into the League computers years ago. The daughter of Ra's al Ghul, Diana remembered Bruce describing Talia in her file as someone of suspect loyalties at best and should not be counted on even if she offered assistance.

_When did this happen? _Diana asked silently, dazed.

A blaring horn from the street brought Diana out of her fog. After looking around, she turned her eyes back to her watch.

Twelve-fifty-three.

In the space of a minute, her world had been knocked off its axis.

She didn't know what to think. Bruce hadn't even hinted that he was involved, much less at the point of asking someone to marry him. He had been as patient as always when he was with her, enduring her teasing and even smirking at her and teasing her back. What in Tartarus was going on?

Grabbing at one of the papers – Diana didn't particularly care which one – she took it over to the vendor and quickly paid for it. Her intention to go into the library long forgotten, Diana turned on her heel and walked away from the place. Finding a deserted alley nearby, she activated her communicator.

"Wonder Woman to Watchtower, is Superman up there?" she demanded.

It was the Question who answered. _"Affirmative, Wonder Woman."_

"Transport me up, now."

Thankfully, the man wasn't one for making small talk. Within a moment, Gotham vanished and was replaced by the transport room of the Watchtower. She looked over at the Question. "Where is he?"

"Cafeteria."

Diana nodded shortly and stormed out of the room, the paper grasped tightly in her hand. The short walk to the cafeteria occurred without Diana passing anyone, which wasn't unusual. In the years since the Metro Tower had been constructed and opened, most of the League took to spending their time there rather than up in space. If anything, the Founders were really the only ones who used the Watchtower with any regularity, aside from those who had monitor duty.

Entering the cafeteria, she looked around and quickly spotted Clark. He was sitting in the corner at a table, a pile of papers scattered about in front of him. He heard her approach him and looked up at her.

"Diana," he smiled, "I thought you were taking today off?"

She didn't return his smile. Instead, she threw the paper down in front of him. "Did you know about this?" she asked, watching him closely.

Clark stared at the front page, and all color drained from his face. Alarm spread over his features, but not surprise. He looked up at her. "Diana, he made me promise not to say anything…" he told her carefully.

Diana had been hanging on by a thread since she had seen those newspapers, and now she felt her heart shatter. For so long, the three of them had shared a special bond. They were the _Trinity_, for Hera's sake! When things got bad, they stuck together. When things were good, they shared their joys. She and Bruce had been the first Clark had told when he asked Lois to marry him.

Now, she was faced with the fact that both men had deliberately kept this from her. She had been misled. She had believed that she and Bruce were still… close.

It hurt. It was _humiliating_.

Diana stared at Clark, then walked away.

* * *

It didn't surprise her when she found out that Clark had immediately gone to tell Bruce about their encounter. What surprised her was that the two of them actually had the gall to ask her to come to the Batcave, to let them explain themselves.

Diana's first instinct was to go, but only to slap them both. Instead, she only sent a message back to them, in Greek and not particularly polite. She knew Bruce could understand Greek, and would get the message. Besides, she had no desire to chance a meeting with the future Mrs. Wayne.

However, getting the message seemed to be beyond the men's abilities. That evening, when Diana had retreated to her quarters on the Watchtower, they showed up at her door.

She stared at them, saying nothing. Bruce stared back, revealing nothing in his mask-covered face.

Clark fidgeted, and caved within a minute. "Diana, please, let us explain."

"Since when does Batman bother to explain any of his actions?" Her voice was colder than an artic wind. "I have nothing to say to either of you."

She moved to slam the door in their faces, when Bruce's hand shot out and halted the door. "Stop acting like a drama queen, Princess," he snapped. "Not everything is as it seems."

Diana glared at him. "Drama queen?" she hissed. "No, if I recall correctly, that is your _fiancé's_ predisposition, with having to choose between the man she claims to love and her genocidal father." She sneered. "It seems she _finally_ made that choice. Congratulations."

Clark continued to look distressed, and Bruce didn't move. Neither did Diana, she just continued to glare at them and count the ways she could rip them both apart.

Everything that the Trinity was, their friendship, their trust, their _love_, lay in pieces at their feet.

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**Fracture: **n. act of breaking something; break or crack; v. to cause or undergo damage.


	7. G is for Greed

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I write this merely for my entertainment and the entertainment of others.

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_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Greed**_

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People who only saw the front that Bruce Wayne put on could use many words to describe him: 'playboy', 'player', 'irreverent', and so on. One word that they wouldn't use to describe him, though, was 'greedy'. Everyone knew that Bruce worked hard for the charities that he was involved in. From parties among the elite in order to solicit donations, to personally supervising building projects such as new orphanages or community centers, to sponsoring projects to clean up polluted areas in the city such as the Gotham River or the various parks. So, Bruce was a busy man, and all of his charity work was on top of running a multimillion-dollar company that provided livelihoods for thousands of people in Gotham, the country, and even the world. So no, greed was not something anyone in their right mind associated with the man.

As far as Bruce himself was concerned, that was just fine. Some things, the masses didn't need to know him. Because he was greedy. His current situation was a perfect example of his voracity.

He dropped kisses on Diana's lips and along her jaw, moving up to bite down gently on her ear lobe. She shuddered against him, her fingernails running up and down his back. Probably the only things keeping him from having gouges scratched into his back was his sweater and the fine thread of control that she still possessed.

Bruce dragged his lips down the long line of her neck, pausing to lave the hollow spot between her neck and collarbone. Her hands came up to grasp at the sweat-soaked strands of hair clinging to his neck. She groaned out his name, "Bruce…"

_Damn_, but her voice was the sexiest thing he'd ever heard when she sounded like that. When he _made_ her sound like that.

She gripped his head and guided him back up so that they could stare into each others' eyes. "More," she whispered.

It might have been a plea, but Bruce saw it more as permission to keep going, to feed his addiction. Because that was what she was for him. No matter how hard he struggled to maintain his long-worked-for discipline, which had worked when faced with beautiful women in the past, Diana had him hooked. He couldn't have enough of her. It didn't matter whether it was just spending time in the same room with her, talking, or if they were like this, disheveled and steadily losing their clothing while in his bed. He had to be with her.

Suddenly, Diana's eyes flashed and she smirked. In a quick series of movements, Bruce was suddenly flat on his back. Diana hovered above him, straddling his hips. Still grinning, Diana leaned down and kissed him deeply. Bruce returned the gesture, and felt even more of a thrill when their tongues became involved.

If this was greed, Bruce thought, then he wanted to know who in their right mind would think it was a bad thing.

Diana nipped his lower lip, and he groaned in response. Oh yeah, greed was the best thing ever.

* * *

**Greed:** n. strong desire for more.


	8. H is for Harem

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Justice League or Justice League Unlimited. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Harem**_

**

* * *

**

Bruce had seen a lot of strange things over the years. Alternate counterparts who turned into dictators 'for the greater good', demons bent on destruction, magical beings, all of it. So an alien building looking like a cross between a Renaissance church and a sultan's palace was hardly going to make him pause.

He raced through the corridors with Clark, John, and Wally. He threw a bolo at one of the guards that rushed him, knocking him off his feet while another guard went down courtesy of a single punch to his swarthy face. Bruce barely took note of Wally racing a whirlwind around another group, of Clark flinging several more against one of the walls, and John smashing a few robotic defense machines with his ring. Within minutes, the room had only four occupants that were on their feet and conscious.

"Which way now?" Clark asked, nodding toward the various doorways throughout the room. "Do we split up?"

Bruce shook his head. "That will just make it easier for reinforcements to pick us off."

"This place is huge," John objected, "how else are we going to find them?"

Wally added, "Knew we should have let Queen Hippie send a few of her girls along to help like she wanted."

Bruce rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply –

An explosion rocked the building, coming from behind the doorway to their left. As one, they turned to look and saw smoke beginning to waft through.

"Well," John said after a moment, "that's probably our best bet." He then took to the air, flying through the doorway and down the corridor. Clark followed close behind, as did Wally and Bruce.

It wasn't long before Bruce began to see the various rooms they were passing were bedchambers of one type or another, allowing him to deduce that this wing of the place was likely the personal quarters of those who lived here.

Soon enough, they came to large, ornate doors, closed to them, but they could all hear the sounds of chaos being unleashed behind them. Clark started forward, no doubt intending to rip them off their hinges and toss them aside, when they exploded outward.

Bruce instinctively brought his cape around to shield him from any flying debris, but a moment later, the view was clear, allowing him and the others to peer forward. Coming out and stepping over the crushed doors were women. Many women. Alien women, all of them dressed rather… provocatively.

_Jesus,_ Bruce thought, _you'd think this place was a…_ Inwardly, his jaw dropped. A harem. They were a harem. Chakatri, the one they had chased through several star systems, had holed himself up here with his harem.

The women kept coming, some carrying children in their arms. When the trickle of women finally slowed to a halt, Bruce looked further in again, along with the others. Approaching them were three familiar figures – Fire, Shayera, and Diana.

All three of them were dressed like the other women who had preceded them. Chakatri had kidnapped them to be members of his harem.

Bruce's stomach revolted at the thought as he stared at Diana. She wasn't wearing her armor, but instead silk red pants and a matching, skimpy, bra-like top with sheer red sleeves. In short, she looked like Jasmine from Disney's _Aladdin_. Not that he had ever watched the movie or anything. Fire and Shayera were all dressed similarly, though in different colors and styles. They also had thin, steel-like bands around their necks.

Wally, of course, would be the one to break the ice. He whistled, "Lookin' _good_, ladies!"

Bruce glanced at Clark and John. He had a feeling that the two men shared that sentiment, though they weren't stupid enough to say so. Especially when Fire raised an eyebrow at Wally and Shayera smacked him on the back of the head. Bruce ignored the horseplay and turned to Diana, who was silent as the others began to ask after Fire and Shayera and the two women asked if they'd found Chakatri.

"Are you all right?" he asked, pitching his tone so as not to be overheard.

Diana crossed her arms. "Fine," she replied shortly, not looking at him.

"Princess," he said warningly. "Did he hurt you?" This wasn't a pleasant conversation, but it was something he needed to know. If Chakatri had hurt her, then steps would have to be taken when they got back. Counselors, doctors, examinations –

She still didn't look at him. "He didn't do what you're thinking, Bruce," she responded after several moments. Diana sneered a bit. "He wanted to break me first." She pointed to the steel band on her neck. "Used this to try and subdue me with pain," she snorted. "He didn't know that I've felt worse after a fight with Giganta."

Bruce stared at her searchingly. He didn't think she'd lie to him –

"Let's go," Diana interrupted his thoughts. "I won't leave anything of mine in this hellhole and I know where they stashed our things." She turned on her heel and stormed back the way she came.

Bruce followed quickly after her, silently promising all kinds of hell for Chakatri when he found the son of a bitch. Then, if he had his way, Bruce would turn him over to Hippolyta and her Amazons. They had not taken kindly to the kidnapping of their princess anymore than he had, and Bruce was certain they would… _take care_ of him properly.

* * *

**Harem:** n. women's part of a home, reserved for wives and concubines; group of women.


	9. I is for Ichor

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Justice League or Justice League Unlimited. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Ichor**_

* * *

Strange substance, blood. It was the vital liquid to the body, keeping the organs healthy and such. Diana was hardly squeamish about blood. Growing up in a warrior society meant she had endured her fair share of injuries. They may have healed quickly, but not fast enough to keep her blood beneath the layers of skin.

The gods, Diana had been taught, did not bleed as mortals or Amazons did. Instead of blood, their bodies were filled with a precious substance. Those of Man's World had translated its name as 'ichor', but Diana disliked it. It was such an ugly, negative-sounding term for something so wondrous.

Though now, she began to understand why 'ichor' fit what it represented.

Hades was never one to give up on what he wanted. Her mother, the Amazons, the _gods_ should have remembered that. When he suddenly blew through the gates beneath Themyscira, nearly leveling the temple above them, everyone had been taken by surprise. Ten Amazons had been killed in the blast, and the others had been unable to push Hades back. He'd escaped and fled the island, rampaging into Man's World.

The League had spent over a week trying to stop him – to little effect; it was like flies trying to stop a Venus flytrap – when Diana was visited by Hermes again. He'd ordered her back to Themyscira.

If she'd known then what they would ask her to do, Diana seriously thought she might have disobeyed the messenger god.

Upon arrival, she entered the temple of Athena with her mother, and quickly found herself face-to-face with Hera, Athena, Artemis, and Aphrodite. They explained to her that the gods would not interfere directly to stop Hades, and that instead they would appoint a champion to stand in their place, namely her.

Diana had agreed, more out of form than anything. One did not deny the wishes of the gods. They had then given her a sword, forged by Hephaestus with the Blood of Cronus. When Athena had given her that bit of information, something in Diana had gone cold. Few things could harm a god, but the Blood of Cronus certainly could. The father of Zeus, he'd been defeated by his son and toppled from his throne. To prevent him from ever being a threat again to her children, his wife, Rhea, had killed him and drained his blood from his body, then secreted it away. If the gods had convinced Rhea to give up even a few drops of the precious substance, then there could only be one conclusion.

Hades would not be restored to his throne in Tartarus again.

Diana had been shaken when Athena, Artemis, and Hera had left. Aphrodite had remained behind, though she had been silent for the entire meeting. Diana could still remember the goddess' unhappy expression and words that seemed almost prophetic.

"_The taking of a life is a costly thing, youngling. This deed may cost you more than you think."_

It wasn't until after the deed was done, a week later, when Hades lay dead at her feet, that Diana understood what Aphrodite meant.

She had been absolved, of course. Athena had been the one to put the sword in her hand, so she would not condemn her. Hera had not stood against her, nor had Artemis. Even Zeus himself had appeared and pardoned her of what she had done. Her mother certainly had not disapproved. If anything, she had seemed almost disappointed that she had not been the one chosen to put an end to Hades.

For all that she had the forgiveness of the gods, and the approval of her mother, Diana still felt tainted. Her hands appeared clean, and yet whenever she looked at them, that pus-like substance was still there, flowing over the hilt of the sword and onto her skin. She did not think she would ever be free of it. No matter what she was told, Diana knew she had blasphemed. She had done worse than Diomedes, who had wounded Aphrodite when she sought to protect her beloved son at the height of the Trojan War. She had actually _killed_ a god, the one who was just as responsible for her existence as the mother who had breathed life into her when she had been nothing more than a clay statue. She could not bear to articulate it in any more detail than that. If she were to call him what just about anyone else in Man's World would have called him in regards to his relationship with her, she did not think she would be able to stand the shame of it all.

Diana also did not know what to say to her friends. The details of the mission had been locked away, but the Founders had direct access to the files, and they knew of her actions. In all honesty, she had avoided all of them ever since she had filed the report for them to read. She wished to evade their disappointed and horrified gazes for as long as possible.

She especially did not wish to see the disgust in Bruce's when he knew that she had crossed a line he had long walked. She had killed, and that made her no better than the monsters he fought when night fell over Gotham City. So she stayed away from just about anywhere she could run into him – namely the Metro Tower and the Watchtower. He was hardly going to show up at the embassy in New York, or her apartment in Boston, so Diana felt relatively safe there.

Sighing, she stared out at the white-foamed waves that crashed up against the cliffs. She knew she wouldn't be able to hide from her friends for much longer. The messages left on her answering machine and voicemail from Clark and Shayera were becoming more and more persistent. Sooner or later, they'd confront her directly.

Not just yet, though. For just a little longer, she could pretend everything was the way it used to be. When she and her friends did not have murder creating a chasm between them, for example, or when she and Bruce were free to dance around one another in a never-ending waltz.

Childhood, it seemed, had come to an end.

She turned away from the view her apartment balcony offered her and went back inside. For a moment, she eyed the mini-bar and wished that alcohol in Man's World could affect her. It would be nice to forget, just for a little while and –

The sound of feet hitting the cement on the balcony caused Diana to whirl around, ready to jump into action –

Batman stood in the open door, any expression he might have had hidden behind the lenses of his cowl. His mouth was set in its normal grim line.

Diana's heart began to pound. _So much for safety. _This was it. He'd condemn her, and then be gone as quickly as he had come. She'd probably never see him again after this. She sucked in a deep breath and waited, hardening herself for what was to come.

He stared at her for several moments, and then finally spoke.

"I won't forgive you."

Diana had expected it, welcomed it even, but that still didn't prevent the words from shattering her heart. She closed her eyes and nodded, bowing her head and allowing her hair to hide her face.

This is what how it was supposed to be for _murderers_.

She'd expected him to leave after he'd made his opinion known, but he didn't. Apparently, Bruce wasn't finished.

"But it's not my place to. It wasn't the right thing to do, Princess."

Diana froze. _Princess_. Hardly anyone called her that anymore, and it had become something of an affectionate nickname when Bruce used it. Why in the world was he calling her that now? Was it to torture her further, to remind her of what she was losing? She bit her lip, fighting back the urge to cry. She was an Amazon. Amazons didn't cry.

His footsteps were silent as he walked across the floor, but Diana could still feel the slight vibrations of his movement. She fought to keep from trembling, trying to keep one tiny vestige of dignity.

Bruce's gloved hand was gentle when he placed it under her chin and lifted her face up. The light stung her eyes, making them water, and despite her attempts at self-control, her despair began to push past her defenses.

"But it was the _only_ thing," he added quietly.

She stared at him. "Was it?" she asked. "I'm not so sure. The gods say I am forgiven of any wrongdoing, my own mother and sisters crow about my… _achievement_ – would you believe that one of our musicians is already putting the deed to song? – but all I can think of is how he looked when that sword went right through his armor." Diana shuddered. "The light… just faded… and the ichor… it was _sickening_! And my mother and sisters _celebrate_? How can the gods forgive me if I can't even forgive myself?"

Bruce appeared to have no answer for her, but he did not leave. He stayed for hours, listening to her rant and rave. He even held her when she finally began to cry.

* * *

**Ichor:** n. discharge from sore; blood of the Greek gods.


	10. J is for Jactitation

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Jactitation**_

* * *

The halls of the Metro Tower were silent. Many of the occupants of the building sat in various areas, the cafeteria, the monitor room, the sparring areas, the hangar, and elsewhere. Most sat in silence, though some did speak to one another in low tones, almost as though they were afraid to break through the tension that had settled over everyone.

Bruce, though, didn't really care. Right now, his world had shrunk down to the isolation room he was staring into through a one-sided plate-glass window. He didn't give a damn about anything or anyone else right now.

Even now, they weren't sure what had happened, exactly. Diana had returned to Metropolis a week-long visit to Themyscira, retreating to her apartment that was provided for her as an ambassador of a sovereign nation by the United Nations. Twenty-four hours passed and no one heard from her, and she did not answer her cell phone or her land line. Concerned, Shayera had gone over to the apartment, only to find Diana collapsed on the floor in her bedroom, unconscious.

The subsequent examinations done by J'onn and the medical staff after Shayera had carried her friend back to the Metro Tower provided mysterious results. They all knew that the gifts given to Diana included continuous good health; she'd never been sick a day in her life. The tests showed that a virus had invaded her body, one none of the medical staff had ever seen before, and her immune system was not responding properly to combat it.

Bruce continued to stare into the isolation room, observing as J'onn, Clark, and a trio of nurses gathered around her. This would be the seventh treatment they'd tried. None of the previous six had worked for more than an hour or two. They'd bring her temperature down briefly, but then the virus would adapt and Diana's temperature would spike.

Of course, the usual symptoms accompanied that rising temperature. Fever dreams, vomiting, and thrashing. That last symptom was the reason Clark had accompanied J'onn and the nurses. He was there to hold Diana down in case she fought back when they tried to administer the new antibiotics. No one else had any hope of holding her down when she wasn't in her right mind.

Diana had been moaning erratically for a while. Bruce winced every time she pulled her IV out while she thrashed, trying to fight threats that existed only in her fevered mind. He listened to her shout threats at various villains – Brainiac, Felix Faust, Giganta. He listened to her call out for her mother, begging her to tell her that 'it' wasn't true, whatever 'it' was.

He listened to her whisper his name and words of love, and closed his eyes. She wasn't thinking clearly, Bruce kept telling himself, she would never say such things if she was coherent.

A small part of him, though, whispered that maybe that was the point. Diana _couldn't_ say it when she was lucid because he wouldn't _let_ her. Bruce wasn't stupid, he knew she well and truly loved him. He never said so out loud or let on to anyone, but Bruce was pretty sure he loved her as well.

That was what scared him. The last time he had loved so completely, so devotedly and without reservation, the objects of that affection had ended up dead in Crime Alley. What had happened that night had destroyed a part of him. If Bruce opened himself up to that kind of devotion again, and something happened, he knew he would never recover.

Clark appeared beside him, shaking him out of his thoughts abruptly.

"J'onn says this is the last antibiotic they have," the Kryptonian told him. "He's not holding out much hope that it'll work any better than the other ones."

Bruce looked at the other man. This was probably the bleakest he had ever seen Clark look in a long, long time.

"What do we do, Bruce?"

"We keep looking," he growled. "We're not going to give up, Kent."

J'onn turned out to be right, though. The last antibiotic lasted a few hours, and Diana's temperature dropped a few degrees for about four hours, only to spike again. Bruce continued to watch as Diana thrashed about on the bed. She was severely dehydrated, despite the fluids the medical staff was pumping into her. Her skin was whiter than the sheet that was draped over her figure.

After yet another round of tests, J'onn joined Bruce in the observation area. The other Founders had come as well, all staring at her through the window.

The Martian shook his head. "I've exhausted every possible treatment, even alternative medicines not used in mainstream medicine. Nothing is working." He bowed his head slightly and said in a softer tone, "I do not believe she has long."

Bruce heard Shayera gasp and saw Wally's shoulders slump out of the corner of his eye, but he said nothing, just turned back to watching Diana sleep. He vaguely heard John mention something about contacting Hippolyta, but he paid little attention to them.

"She's not going to die," he said abruptly. All conversation immediately ceased.

"Bruce," Clark started to say.

Bruce cut him off. "She's not going to die," he repeated. "She's too stubborn, and her healing powers will kick in."

"She's been fighting this for days," the Kryptonian pointed out. "Why hasn't it already?"

He didn't answer him. He didn't even know why he'd even spoken up. He just refused to believe that his immortal princess was going to die. That was his job, to one-day leave _her_ behind. It had been his chief reason for keeping her at arms' length. Losing a friend, Diana could endure. Losing a lover would only cause more pain in the long run. Therefore, she was _not_ going to usurp what Bruce had long-accepted as his inevitable fate and make his well thought-out reasons utterly useless.

Hours continued to pass. Bruce had no idea if anyone had ever bothered to go with John's suggestion of contacting Diana's mother. He only watched as Diana's heartbeat began to slow. The medical staff began to hover even closer, each looking for a last-minute cure that would save her life. They were, though, careful to keep a spot open so Bruce could still see Diana. The one time they didn't, he'd scared the hell out of them.

It was because of that hole that Bruce noticed Diana's eyes flutter even as her heart rate continued to drop. The speakers were on, so Bruce could hear the sound she made as her lips moved, just barely.

"Br… Bruce…"

He didn't hesitate. Shoving past John, who had been beside him, Bruce thrust the door open, heedless to the shouts that he must not go in without protective measures, that she could infect him. He honestly didn't care. Striding past the shocked medical staff, he picked up her limp hand and squeezed it.

"I'm here, Princess," he murmured. "I'm here. Don't go."

For a timeless moment, it seemed as though her tired eyes cleared and she was perfectly well again. Bruce even thought he saw her smile at him.

Then her eyes began to drift closed.

"Diana," he nearly shouted. "Diana! Stay awake!"

The world around him began to fade and all he could focus on was Diana as she slipped further and further away. He had her hand in a grip so tight it would have broken it had she been anyone else. His other hand came up to her shoulder and he shook her, trying to keep her conscious and with him.

"Be at peace, Knight. Your lady has not departed for the Underworld just yet."

Bruce whirled around to face the voice, though he did not let go of Diana's hand. He blinked. It was a young man, fit and tanned with sun-bleached hair, and wearing simple Grecian-like garments. What caught Bruce's attention, though, were his eyes. Bluer than his own or any other person's, they also spoke of great age, wisdom, and weariness.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Apollo," was the simple reply.

Bruce stared. Apollo, god of the sun, replaced Helios in mainstream Greek mythology. Also known as the god of music, medicine, and sometimes prophecy. Twin brother to the virgin huntress, Artemis.

Wait. God of _medicine_, which meant health.

Diana had been fine until she had visited her people on Themyscira.

He glared at the god. "What did you _do_?" he hissed.

"A test," Apollo said detachedly, his eyes cool and calm. "To see if you were worthy."

Bruce stared at him. "Worthy? Worthy of what? Who? Diana?"

"Yes," the god replied. "My sister wished to know if her favorite follower had bestowed her heart to the right person. Artemis places little faith in the judgment of Aphrodite. She, after all, believed that Helen and Paris were an ideal match." It seemed to Bruce that Apollo was just about to roll his eyes.

"Let me get this straight," Bruce said after several moments. "You infected Diana with a disease – one that has no cure, mind you – in order to see if I would respond in a certain way…"

"Yes," Apollo nodded. "You are the princess' chosen, whether you accept that or not. My sister and I wished to ascertain that Diana had chosen wisely. Given her mother's choices, we felt this was best. The last thing anyone wanted was another round of Hippolyta and Hades' drama."

"You were willing to let her _die_?"

Apollo snorted. "Of course not. The disease has been removed. She will recover quickly, just as she always does when she is injured." Their eyes met. "Hear me well, Bruce Wayne of Gotham. You have the favor of Nemesis, and you are the chosen beloved of the princess of the Amazons. In days of old, those facts alone would acquire you many enemies. Today… well, no Amazon since Andromache and Penelope has forsaken their immortal fate in the name of love. I doubt the women on Themyscira will be particularly thrilled, but time will tell concerning their reaction."

"So this was a warning?" Bruce asked.

"Of sorts, yes."

Bruce sighed. The stories passed down about the Greek pantheon usually portrayed them as arrogant beings who took pleasure in interfering in the affairs of mortals. Diana had always scorned the tales, saying that they completely over-exaggerated the behaviors of her gods. Bruce couldn't wait until she woke up so he could refute her statements. Artemis and Apollo were nosy pains in the ass.

It would certainly be easier than asking her about this whole 'chosen' and 'favorite' business.

* * *

**Jactitation:** n. uncontrollable thrashing; harmful lie.

**Author's Note:** I'd like to apologize for the long delay in posting this. For some reason I wasn't able to load any documents in the Document Manager, no matter what type of document I used. I finally tried again today and the problem seems to have cleared up. Hope you enjoyed this!


	11. K is for Kermis

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Kermis**_

* * *

Diana tried not to laugh at what was going on in front of her. Granted, it had been her idea for her and Bruce to enjoy the festival taking place outside of Gotham, and Bruce had been reluctant, so it would not do for her to be entertained when he was clearly so frustrated.

She busied herself eating the funnel cake she had bought just a few minutes ago, lest he pick up on her amusement. However, as Diana continued to watch, she had a feeling that Bruce was thoroughly engrossed and determined to win the game in front of him.

_Batman losing at the fish toss,_ Diana thought. _Wally and Shayera will _never_ believe this._

It was true. Bruce had already put at least twenty dollars down on the game as he struggled to get the balls into the center jars, which would earn him several fish as his prize. Diana, though, just couldn't understand why he was having so much trouble with it. She had seen him make far more difficult shots, and under apocalyptic circumstances.

"Damn it," she heard him mutter when his last ball missed. Diana couldn't help but snort, which caused her hands to jerk just enough that some of the powdered sugar flew off of the funnel cake and onto her face.

Bruce turned and looked at her. His blue yes promptly narrowed. "Not a word, Princess," he said quietly, "or I'll tell Clark you mocked the potato sack slides."

Diana's response was the epitome of grace and dignity – she stuck her tongue out at him.

He just rolled his eyes and went back to the game, leaving Diana to continue to be amused. She honestly hadn't had so much fun in a long time.

* * *

**Kermis:** n. country fair; fundraising festival.

**Author's Note: **Due to the briefness of this chapter, the next one is coming right up after it. Enjoy!


	12. L is for Laconic

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Justice League or Justice League Unlimited. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Laconic**_

* * *

One of the things that truly surprised Diana when she came to Man's World was various individuals' propensity to talk, a lot. Flash, she quickly found, was hardly ever silent, constantly making strange, light-hearted statements that Diana felt had some meaning that escaped her.

Superman was not quite so bad, in fact in comparison to Flash, he was actually quite polite. In some ways, really, he reminded her of the stories her fellow Amazons had told her, the stories of Hector, Priam, and many of the other Trojans. Theirs was a noble spirit, and Diana felt that Superman shared in that. Not to mention, he had the habit of making grand speeches.

Hawkgirl and Green Lantern were not quite as talkative as Flash, though they were hardly quiet. The winged hero was actually boisterous in a manner that was quite similar to some of her sisters. Confrontational, headstrong. Green Lantern, despite that he could be rather patronizing sometimes, behaved like the warrior he had trained to be much of his life, and kept his mouth shut unless he had something he felt was worth saying. It wasn't his fault that Diana disagreed with some of the opinions that he stated out loud.

J'onn J'onzz was quite different from the others, though Diana felt closer to him because of that. He too was a stranger to the culture of Man's World, and though he did not say so to her, Diana thought that he was just as bewildered by its eccentricities as she was at times.

J'onn spoke little in those early months, it was true, but the last of their makeshift group – the one who was only there 'part time' – who was the one who spoke the least. In the weekly meetings that ensued after the League formed, he hardly ever said anything, except perhaps to update them on the construction of their headquarters. The designing of the watch rotation was left to Green Lantern, the compilation of files on various villains throughout the world was left to Hawkgirl and Superman. J'onn assisted them in the file concerning the Imperium, but nothing else as he knew nothing of Earth's less desirable elements. Flash promised to stock the kitchen.

There was nothing for Diana to do. Even after the Watchtower was complete and the League moved in, she had little understanding of technology. Green Lantern had the schedule under control, and she, like J'onn, could not contribute to the information that Superman and Hawkgirl were compiling.

Diana was not used to feeling useless. On Themyscira, there was always something she could do, duties she was expected to perform like any other Amazon. Whether it was maintaining the weapons in the armories, or standing guard in one of the temples, or helping to groom the horses, inactivity did not occur very often on the island.

Just as she was indulging in her moment of reflection – she refused to even consider calling it self-pity – her door suddenly swung open. Diana jumped to her feet, alarmed, but relaxed when Batman came through the doorway, carrying two cases of some kind.

He did not say a word, just walked over to the empty desk and set the cases down on it, one on top of the other. He opened the case and Diana peered in. She blinked. The case was full of books. Books written in Greek, or rather, what the people of this world called Ancient Greek – her people had never stopped using the dialect.

She looked up at him. "What's all of this?"

"Books."

Diana raised an eyebrow. "I can see that. They're books on…" she peered at some of the titles, and then continued, "Greek mythology." She straightened and crossed her arms. "I know my own history, thank you."

He stared at her impassively from behind his mask. "We need to know how much is real."

Diana frowned. "I thought you held my gods in contempt."

"So they're not real?"

"Of course they are!" she exclaimed angrily. "How dare you –"

The infuriating man actually interrupted her. "Then we need to know more," he repeated, as if explaining something to an exceptionally stupid child. He indicated the books. "Record which myths are true, and how accurate. Then determine which…" he took a deep breath through his nostrils, as if gathering strength for the word, "_monsters_ are likely to have any motive to attack this world."

She gestured at the computer on the desk. She hadn't yet dared to turn it on. "And how do you suggest I –"

"There's a pen and notebook in the other case with several more books. I assume you know how to use them."

He was out of the room before Diana could give in to the urge to punch him through the wall. She glared after him.

Ultimately, she did as he asked. Some of the books were fairly accurate, while others were borderline ridiculous. She recorded everything she knew, elaborating on creatures such as Medusa, or the Minotaur. She even said what she could about each of the gods, so as to allow her new teammates to be at least semi-familiar with them should they somehow meet. When she finished, she sent the notebooks – she'd filled up three of them – off to Batman.

He came looking for her a day later, the notebooks in hand.

Diana had been sitting in the cafeteria, attempting to eat something Flash called pizza – it was rather messy, but surprisingly tasty – when the notebooks were tossed down on the table. She looked up.

Batman stood just across from her, his arms folded. "What is that?" he demanded, nodding toward the notebooks.

Diana raised an eyebrow. "Just what you asked. I wrote down everything I could possibly think of concerning the various creatures." She eyed him skeptically. "I even wrote out information on the gods so the rest of you do not inadvertently insult them out of ignorance," she added.

Even with the mask, she keenly felt his glare. "It's written in Greek. Ancient Greek."

Diana's lips twitched and she struggled not to grin at him. "It's written in the language I've used my entire life," she corrected, leaning back in her seat. She stared at him. "Surely any educated person knows how to read it?"

A strangled sound came from his mouth, sounding faintly like a growl and Diana's body shuddered from concealed laughter. She had no idea it could be so entertaining to bait Batman.

"Let's go," he said suddenly. "You need to learn how to use the computer here, as well as how to read and write English. Then you can put the information into the files yourself, because I don't have months to spare translating for Superman and the others."

He turned on his heel and started toward the doors. Diana didn't move, just stared after him. Just before he reached the doors he stopped. Realizing that she hadn't followed him, Batman whirled around and stared at her. "Princess," he snapped. "I don't have all day."

Diana sighed. "I hadn't finished lunch, you know," she told him. Nonetheless, she stood up. Picking up the notebooks, she also took the plate that had her half-eaten pizza and her water bottle as well.

They walked down the hallways, making their way to the monitor room. In the elevator, they stood in silence. While taking a bite of her food, she glanced at him. "Would you like a piece?" she asked, holding the plate out to him. "Flash says that it's from a place called Pizza Crossroad, in Central City."

He didn't answer verbally, just shook his head.

Diana shrugged. Batman didn't seem to want to say much, unless it was to complain or issue orders. Still, she found him interesting. She'd keep an eye on him. Maybe he'd get more talkative as time went by.

* * *

**Laconic:** adj. using very few words.

**Author's Note:** Many, many thanks to TheLadyIsis for her assistance on this chapter. You're a godsend, hon. *hugs*


	13. M is for Muck

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Muck**_

* * *

The spring had been a sweltering one in Gotham. Electric bills were up everywhere in the city as every resident who had one kept their air conditioning running nearly full time, and it wasn't even summer just yet. Children complained even more than normal at having to go to school in the old buildings that didn't have central air. Construction workers were miserable as well, but were used to working in such arid conditions.

Then, after nearly a month with no relief, a cold front finally came through, bringing three days of steady rain. Thankfully, there hadn't been any spike in the humidity when it finally stopped. Instead, there was only a cool breeze sweeping through the trees.

Diana walked up to the door of Wayne Manor. Gotham's elite had a charity ball taking place that evening. She and Bruce had been… seeing one another for six months, and thus had planned to attend, if only for the sake of the hosts, the Vreeland family, who were long-time friends of Bruce's.

After ringing the doorbell, she waited patiently. After nearly a minute, far longer than she usually had to wait, the door opened to reveal Alfred.

"Oh, Miss Diana, you're here!"

Diana blinked and stared at the Englishman. As long as she had known Alfred, she always would have described him as unflappable. Nothing ever seemed to phase him, not even when Wally had accidentally blown a hole through the wall of the Manor during the Thanagarian invasion. Now, though, he looked positively frazzled. It was rather alarming.

"Alfred, is everything all right?" she asked, her eyes widening. Images of any number of things went through her mind. Bruce or Tim or Barbara injured, possibly severely, someone having discovered the entrance to the Cave and the Bat family fighting for their lives, anything.

"Oh, yes, Miss," he replied as he worked to master his poise. He opened the door further, allowing her to enter the house. "Master Bruce is running a little late, I am afraid," he told her as they left the main foyer and walked further into the manor. He led her to the study, continuing, "There was a little mishap while he and Miss Barbara and Master Tim were on patrol."

"He isn't injured, is he?"

Alfred shook his head. "No, Miss, but he is not quite ready to go. I fear you both shall be late attending the festivities tonight." He moved toward the clock, adding, "I shall inform Master Bruce that you're here. He'll be up as quickly as possible."

Diana watched the clock close behind the butler, and raised an eyebrow. A 'mishap' while Bruce was on patrol? Bruce didn't have 'mishaps'. In this city, when something went wrong, it was usually far higher up on the scale than 'mishap.' 'Catastrophic' or 'apocalyptic' were typically better descriptions when something bad happened on Bruce's patrols.

She eyed the entrance to the Cave worriedly. Alfred had said that Bruce wasn't injured, but then Bruce hardly ever admitted to being hurt. Normally, she knew to keep her distance when it came to his work in Gotham, including the patrols, but if something was wrong…

Diana pursed her lips and straightened her shoulders. What was the worst Bruce could do? If there was really nothing wrong, he would grumble a bit and let it go. If something was, then she might be able to help. Those thoughts in mind, she stepped forward and opened the clock to enter the Cave.

As she quietly moved through the tunnel, she could hear the conversation occurring below.

"Bruce, stop _moving_, you're getting it everywhere!"

"Oh gross, you got it in my _hair_!"

"Master Bruce, please remain still!"

"It's hard not to move when you all keep pulling me!"

Diana came to the top of the staircase that led down into the Cave and stared at the tableau in front of her. Alfred had a hose, of all things, in hand. Barbara and Tim, still in their costumes, were holding onto Bruce's arms. Bruce, however, was covered, head to toe, in mud.

"Hera," Diana breathed, her hand coming up to her mouth, "Bruce, what happened?"

All four of them froze when she spoke, and turned as one to look up at her, giving Diana a better look at them. Tim and Barbara both had mud on them, including some in Barbara's hair, which had been what had prompted her earlier outburst. Alfred, so far, seemed to have kept it off of him, but Bruce was absolutely coated in it. She couldn't even see any of the black Kevlar that made up his costume.

Diana slowly made her way down the stairs, not taking her eyes off of Bruce. "What in Tartarus happened?" she repeated, now struggling not to laugh. She came to a stop several feet away. They made quite a contrast, Diana noted. He was a filthy mess, quite different from her coifed hair and long red dress.

Alfred, Tim, and Barbara backed away a bit, letting Bruce face her alone. She bit her lip and tried to stop grinning, though to little success, if the scowl on Bruce's face was any indication.

"It was Clayface," he said shortly. "Nothing to be concerned about, Princess. I'll be ready to leave soon."

Diana nodded. "I'm relieved, actually," she said. He cocked his head questioningly, and she elaborated, laughter starting to bubble up, "I thought you might have decided that a mud bath would improve your complexion."

* * *

**Muck:** n. sticky dirt.


	14. N is for Nuisance

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Nuisance**_

* * *

He sat on the rooftop of WayneTech, peering toward the offices of one its neighboring skyscrapers from the shadows of the building. Commissioner Gordon's taskforce on a corporate espionage ring had received a tip that Vreeland Industries was the next target. Robin was doing the usual patrol of the city, making sure that the normal miscreants weren't neglected, and Batgirl was watching the building's north and east wings while Bruce himself watched the south and west.

It was the faint breeze that caught his attention. It wasn't natural, Bruce had enough experience to know when it was; the wind was man-made. It wasn't the chaotic whoosh created by Flash's high speeds, nor did he hear the quiet flapping of Shayera's wings. The breeze wasn't quite like the one J'onn or Clark or John generated. Few of the other League members hardly ever visited Gotham, so that left only one other probable culprit.

"Princess," he said irritably, without even bothering to turn around to face her, "I don't know why you're in my city, nor do I care at the moment. Go away."

That tone of voice would have sent most heroes scrambling, or at least nudged him into making a somewhat dignified exit. In the case of Diana, however, she just laughed.

She _laughed_. At _him_. The _Batman_.

Bruce growled and whirled around, intent on reiterating his order, only this time much more forcefully. Diana was several feet away from him, floating in the air, with a mischievous grin on her lips that would have put Wally to shame. "Diana," he snapped. "I am in the middle of –"

"– a mission, yes," she finished. "As am I."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Not in my city, you're not."

She snorted. "Yes I am, since this espionage ring has been linked with similar groups in Metropolis, Boston, Central City, Los Angeles, and a host of other cities around the globe, and many of those groups have ties to LexCorp. Once Commissioner Gordon made the connection, he made a call to the League. You either get me, or Superman. We're the only ones available. Take your pick."

_Damn it, Jim. Could have warned me_, he thought crossly.

"So, the commissioner mentioned that Vreeland Industries was a probable hit?"

Bruce made a mental note to glare at Jim Gordon quite a bit next time they met. Enough to make the man nervous, anyway.

"Bruce," Diana said, now sounding a little annoyed herself, "that standing in the shadows and providing a menacing presence attitude isn't going to work. Plus, I just saw Charles Vreeland's office light up. Isn't he supposed to be in Brazil?"

* * *

**Nuisance:** n. someone or something irritating.


	15. O is for Obsidian

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Obsidian**_

* * *

Though the Founders hardly ever talked about it, the encounter with the Justice Lords had shaken them all badly. What had happened with those people influenced much of their lives in the years after. The conflict with Amanda Waller and Cadmus was the most obvious consequence of the Justice Lords' rampage, for example. The Justice Lords' views inspired the Founders to recruit people like the Question and Green Arrow, men who were highly involved in politics, albeit on the opposite ends of the spectrum. They hoped that the measures set in place would help them avoid the fate they had seen with the Justice Lords.

Still, the encounter with the Lords hadn't prevented some scientists from being curious about alternate realities. The Justice Lords – specifically Lord Batman – had created a device to transport people from one reality to another. No one wanted to take a chance of that happening again, even accidentally, so the device was created for observation only, with safeguards put in place to prevent alteration for transportation.

Bruce was the first to find out about it, which didn't surprise any of the Founders. The man had his fingers in just about every scientific pie in the world. If it was being developed, he was funding it. If it was already developed, he had part or complete ownership of it. So by the time the observation device was finished, he had paid off the creators and confiscated it, putting it deep within the bowels of the Metro Tower. When questioned as to why he wanted the thing and what its practical purpose was, he said it was a chance to discover new tactics that might have been developed in the different realities that they could potentially use.

Well, that, and he didn't want the wrong people getting ideas about how to take out the Justice League.

He used it first, peering into the different realities. He did not see the one that housed to the Justice Lords, which was something of a relief. Instead he saw other realities, where things were really not all that different from his own.

That changed one day, about three weeks after he'd obtained the device. Diana had followed him into the lab, intent on seeing the device work with her own eyes.

Once Bruce turned it on though, they both came to regret it.

The way the device worked was that when it was turned on after being deactivated, it fixated on a reality different from the one it had previously been on. The last time Bruce had worked with the device, he had observed a reality where the world had developed as a matriarchal society. It had been… enlightening.

Today's reality, however, was nothing of the sort. The first thing they saw was what appeared to be some kind of inauguration. Confetti flew, the crowds were cheering behind baracades, which were guarded by police decked out in riot gear. Bruce recognized the building as Gotham City Hall, surprising enough. At the bottom of the steps, he could make out several figures that were recognizable – Gotham's current mayor, Commissioner Gordon (dressed in his dress uniform, unusually enough), Barbara, Dick, Tim, Renee Montoya, and various other public officials.

Suddenly, the doors flew open and two figures stepped out of the building. Next to him, Bruce heard Diana gasp as she too recognized their counterparts.

It was kind of disturbing, actually. Bruce watched himself walking down the stairs of city hall, dressed in a black, militaristic kind of uniform – though not one he recognized off the top of his head. Next to his counterpart, Diana's counterpart walked with him, her hand resting on his. She too was dressed head-to-toe in black, only it was a sheath dress, hooked at the neck and flowing down her chest to her ankles, leaving her back, shoulders, and arms bare. She didn't even have her bracers on, he noticed.

The two of them stopped at the podium that had been set up. Bruce's counterpart opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of gunshots. Both Bruce and Diana ducked down instinctively, while Gordon, Montoya, and their people sprang into action, seeking out the shooter. The assassin, though, made it easy for them. He was rushing toward the podium, the gun in his hand and a crazed look in his eyes.

Diana straightened up and stared down at the would-be assailant as he approached. Slowly, hypnotically, she waved her hand in his direction. The shooter froze on the spot, just a few yards away. The shooter blinked, shocked.

Slowly, everyone began to calm down as they realized that shots were no longer being fired. Bruce's counterpart slowly stood up – it seemed that Diana's other hand had kept him pressed down, and Bruce himself had personal experience as to how strong she was – and stared down at the assassin, his expression inscrutable.

The device was meant only for visual observation, not audio. Because of that fact, Bruce and Diana could not hear what their counterparts said to the assailant, nor what they said to the crowds, who were listening raptly. Bruce, could, however, imagine what was being said. His counterpart kept gesturing to the assassin as he spoke to the crowds, and they in turn seemed to be eating up his words. Diana's counterpart spoke as well, and the throngs began shouting, shaking their fists in the air. She said something else, and then raised her hand again.

Diana made a faint, choking sound when her counterpart made a throwing motion and the shooter went flying into the incensed crowd, which had transformed into a murderous mob. "Great Hera…"

Bruce, though, was watching his counterpart with the same sick feeling. The man's eyes were on his Diana, a faint, approving smile on his lips. While the mob tore the assassin to pieces, he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She returned the smile with one of her own.

It was then that Bruce noticed something significant – their eyes were a different color. While he and Diana had their customary blue eyes, the eyes of their counterparts were cool, dark obsidian.

Bruce reached out to the device and shut it down. Neither of them could stand to watch any more.

* * *

**Obsidian: **n. jet-black volcanic glass.


	16. P is for Possession

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Possession**_

* * *

Dido paced like an angry tiger in the metal dungeon she had been imprisoned in. This was not to be borne! She was the governor and Queen of Carthage, not some common criminal to be caged and put on display.

_You have been caged because you have proven yourself a danger to others._

Dido growled. She had chosen to inhabit the body of the Amazon princess in the hope of finding an ally, someone who would willingly aid her in her quest. Instead she had found a willful, defiant child. Hippolyta's daughter had little respect for her betters.

"I am not a danger to you and yours," she snapped, "only to Aeneas!"

_As long as the two of you inhabit Batman and myself, my friends will consider you both a menace and act accordingly._

"Give me Aeneas and I will trouble you no more!"

_You should never have invaded our bodies in the first place. Your time is long gone to dust, Dido. The Underworld awaits you and Aeneas. You should not have remained here, but gone on as is natural._

Dido shook her head. "I am surprised at you, Princess of the Amazons. Your people have no liking for men, and know the crimes they are capable of. I thought surely you would understand my actions."

_You behave as a woman scorned by her lover. My people's issues with men were far more serious. Your lover left you at the command of the gods to fulfill the purpose appointed to him. My people were raped and tortured by Heracles and his army. Forgive me if I am less than sympathetic to your complaints._

Dido's hands began to shake. If only the Amazon stood before her and she was not within her body! She would personally flog the girl for such impudence! She clenched her teeth.

"What of you?" she demanded. "You say that your people's objections to men are more important than mine. What do your mother and sisters say to your fascination with the powerless mortal that Aeneas has chosen as his vessel?"

Diana did not respond, and Dido grasped upon her silence at once. "Ah, not so haughty now, are you, Princess? You know your people would take it as a betrayal of their suffering!" She smirked. "Do not tell me your love is any purer than mine was. Love does nothing but destroy. It destroyed my kingdom, destroyed me, and be certain, child, it will do the same to you."

…_Be gone, vile witch. Get out of my body!_

Dido shook her head, the fiery rage slowly receding. "Not yet," she murmured, "not until I have had the reckoning I deserve."

* * *

**Possession:** n. state of being controlled; ownership; something owned.


	17. Q is for Quandary

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Quandary**_

* * *

Bruce was not an indecisive man. He made decisions daily that affected countless lives, both as the head of an enormous corporation and as Batman. Making snap judgments in precarious situations did not make him cave under pressure.

This situation, though, was different. The choice he faced did not affect the lives of thousands, if not millions, it affected his personal life and the peace of Wayne Manor. If he made the wrong decision, Bruce had no doubt that the entire household would be thrown into an uproar. So he had to choose wisely. His life was hectic enough, he had no wish to add more chaos to it.

"Bruce?"

He turned. Diana stood a few feet away, her hands resting securely on a shopping cart, which was full of various items, from paint brushes and rollers to a pack of stencils.

She eyed him curiously. "Have you chosen a color yet?" she asked.

Bruce opened his mouth to reply, but he knew that he hadn't. He'd narrowed it down to two colors, but he still didn't know which he should go with. He eyed her for a moment, and then pointed to the colors. "What do you think?" he asked her. "Fire engine red, or summer sky blue?"

Diana stared at him, surprised, and then to the paint that sat on the shelf in front of them. "They're both very… forceful colors," she pointed out after a moment. "It would be a bit much to use just one for everything. How about we get a little of both?"

Bruce looked at the paint, and then nodded. "That will work," he agreed. He grabbed one of off of the shelf and put them into the cart, satisfied. He had Diana's agreement on the colors, so if Alfred didn't like the colors, Bruce could just point the older man in her direction.

Though why they were making such a big deal over the colors to paint the nursery, Bruce wasn't completely sure. The old colors had suited him just fine. Still, Diana had insisted that their son would enjoy a newly-painted room when he was born. Alfred had agreed with her, and so to preserve the peace of the Manor, Bruce had consented to it as well. Which was why he and Diana were here, at Home Depot, and he had a feeling they'd be back again once the nursery was painted. Diana had seen numerous other things when they'd first come in that she wanted to look at more closely.

Bruce sighed. He hated shopping, unless it was related to his nightly activities, but after two years of marriage, he knew better than to complain too much. Diana had as little patience for whining as he did under normal circumstances. At five months along, her patience was even thinner.

"Good," she said, "shall we go? Oh, and can we stop on the way home and get me a sandwich? I'm starving."

"Whatever you want, Princess."

* * *

**Quandary:** n. dilemma; state of uncertainty.


	18. R is for Regret

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Regret**_

* * *

Most outsiders simply assumed that Themyscira had absolutely no imperfections. Surely a place blessed and protected by the Greek gods was not bothered by paltry things such as irritating weather. However, in many ways, Themyscira was an island like any other, prone to a variety of weather conditions.

It was on days like this, when the skies opened and poured forth torrents of rain, trapping almost everyone indoors, that Diana felt the most evocative. It was on days like this that the past came alive for her again, and while there were many happy memories, the rain only served to give life to her final day in Man's World.

Diana could still sometimes feel the raindrops splattering against her skin…

* * *

"_I'm going home to Themyscira. For good." There. She'd said it. A simple statement. Why then did she not feel relieved to have gotten it out?_

_His stare was as inscrutable as always. He stood only a few feet away from her, his arms folded across his chest, but it felt like there was an enormous chasm between them._

"_Why?" A simple response, and one she hadn't quite expected. Diana had half-believed he would simply shrug indifferently and turn away._

_She stared at him. "No one's given me any reason to stay." _Unless _you'd_ like to give me one. _She did not say it, but the words hung in the air, as obvious as a blade between them._

_Bruce continued to stare at her in silence, and she stared right back. That was when the rain started to fall. The water was cold against her bare skin and Diana tried not to shiver noticeably._

_Her jet was waiting, so she should go. Still, Diana couldn't resist one final temptation. She began to reach out, wanting to touch his cheek, to feel his skin beneath her fingers one last time –_

_Bruce backed away from her hand. "Goodbye, Diana," he said coldly, then turned on his heel and walked into the Manor, leaving her alone._

_He didn't even call her Princess anymore._

* * *

The anger that had resulted from that pathetic farewell had lasted nearly a year. Diana had kept in touch with her friends among the League. She heard about Alfred's death, Batman's disappearance from even Gotham, the hostile takeover of Wayne Enterprises, Bruce turning into a hermit. Shayera was a true warrior, but over the years she'd built up a network of contacts that would have impressed even the best spymasters. In short, she was an incurable gossip in her advancing years.

The anger eventually faded into resignation. What was done was done. If Aphrodite had intended for the Amazon princess to have the dark knight, it would have happened. It had not, and now they were both alone.

The rain continued to fall outside as Diana watched. Standing up from the chair in her room, she stepped outside, grateful that her room was on the first floor and allowed her easy access to the out of doors.

The rain pelted her skin and she closed her eyes. Sometimes, Diana thought she could almost be back there on the grounds of Wayne Manor. Sometimes, she thought she could reach out and touch his cheek before he turned away from her for good.

Sometimes, Diana thought history could change.

* * *

**Regret:** v. to feel sorry for something; to mourn someone or something. n. sad or disappointed feeling.


	19. S is for Salvage

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Salvage  
**(sequel to **Fracture**)_

* * *

The Batcave was as dark and dank as ever. The bats were screeching further into the cave, keeping their distance from the lights that illuminated the main cavern. The screen of the computer showed that a search of some kind was in progress, forty-four percent complete.

Diana crossed her arms impatiently. While she had calmed down from the previous night's rage, she had no desire to be here. It had taken nearly ten minutes of pleading on Clark's part to get her to agree to talk to them here this morning. Truthfully, she had only agreed to listen to them so that they would leave her be in peace to work through her anger.

Footsteps caught her attention and Diana turned. Both Bruce and Clark were walking down the stairs that connected to the Manor above the Cave. The white hot anger from last night had cooled a bit, but she was still furious with both of them. She didn't bother greeting them when they approached her, just stared at them coolly.

"Ra's al Ghul has developed a new weapon," Bruce stated, immediately jumping in. "A flesh-eating gas that has no antidote. Talia came to Gotham to warn me, because the city and Metropolis are his first planned targets."

Diana raised an eyebrow. "That's highly unfortunate," she said after a moment, "but what does it have to do with me?"

Clark's eyes widened at the callous statement, but Diana ignored him. She was upset with the Man of Steel, yes, but that paled in comparison to her fury against Bruce. Not three weeks ago, they had spent a weekend in Paris, the first time either had been in that city since the Kasnian mess with Vandal Savage. Those two days had filled her with hope, as she had clearly seen Bruce enjoying himself.

The days following that trip had been busy ones, as several of Bruce's rogues had escaped Arkham again. Nonetheless, he had managed to send her the occasional email or message, keeping in touch. There had been no mention of Ra's al Ghul, his daughter, or a threat to Gotham and Metropolis. She hadn't even suspected anything. Then she had seen those newspapers.

"Ra's is in hiding somewhere," Bruce informed her, moving over to the computer and sitting down in front of it. "Problem is, we don't know where. Not even Talia knows. We have to flush him out."

Diana stared at him. "By marrying his daughter?" She snorted. "I'm sure he'll love that, actually. If I recall correctly, Ra's al Ghul offered you Talia's hand years ago."

"Diana," Clark interjected, "the engagement isn't real. It's to get Ra's to come here before he releases the gas." He gazed at her and then nodded meaningfully in Bruce's direction. "It's all a sham."

She shifted her gaze from Clark back to Bruce, refusing to admit that she was in any way relieved at the news. "Why did you two conspire to keep this from me?" she asked simply. She gave them a challenging look. "Am I considered untrustworthy?"

"No!" Clark exclaimed. He would have said more, but Bruce held up his hand, stopping him. "Check on Talia," he ordered as he met Diana's accusing gaze. Not for the first time, Diana wished he did not have those lenses that hid his eyes from the world.

Clark sighed and shook his head, but did as he was bid and flew up the steps, leaving them alone.

Neither said anything at first, just stared at each other in a silent battle of wills. Always less patient than him, Diana spoke first. "Why?"

"The engagement was Talia's idea," he replied. "You were right – Ra's has wanted Talia and me to get married for years. She thought that if we let the news get out that we were preparing to marry, Ra's might come out from whatever rock he's hiding under early in order to gloat."

Diana rolled her eyes. "Oh and I'm sure she only wants to use the engagement for that? Please." She glared at him. "Why didn't you tell me about this Bruce? I don't appreciate being used and led on."

She watched him clench his jaw. "You didn't need to know –"

"The hell I didn't!" Diana shouted. "Don't start with the whole 'Gotham's my city I don't need help' argument with me. The fact that you conspired with Clark on this proves that you are enlisting League assistance on this situation."

Bruce didn't respond and they stood in silence for several moments, each trying to out-glare the other. Finally, Diana asked with none of her former rancor, "Why, Bruce? Why did I have to find out from the damn press? I think I deserved a little warning, especially after Paris." He remained silent and she continued, "Or was Paris just a dalliance to you? A way to pass the time?"

He gripped the arms of his chair, his eyes narrowed into tiny slits. "No, it wasn't," he hissed. "I didn't tell you because I knew this was how you would react. I knew if I told you, you would have ripped Talia's head off the moment she made a pass at me."

Diana seethed. She freely admitted that she would have been grossly unhappy if she had known about this beforehand. She had no use for any of Bruce's former lovers. Selina Kyle, Andrea Beaumont, and Talia al Ghul were women whose existence Diana had always been happy to ignore. However, she also admitted that there were times when one had to accept help from unwanted sources.

Grappling her anger with every ounce of self-control she possessed, Diana answered with deceptive quietness, "So, you did not trust me."

"What?" he asked, clearly taken aback.

"You thought I would endanger the operation, that I couldn't control my emotions," she elaborated. Diana sighed. "Thank you, Bruce. Now I know your true opinion of me. Should I assume that Clark feels the same way? Is that why he assisted in keeping me in the dark about your… activities… with Talia?"

"Diana…"

"Bruce," she cut him off coldly, "I had to cooperate with the man who _betrayed_ my _mother_; I had to work with the Legion of Doom. Did you really think I would fly off the handle because your old lover wants to flirt with you?" Diana laughed bitterly. "I am not one of your over-possessive floozies, Bruce. I know how to control myself."

The silence within the Cave was deafening. Diana shook her head. "Is this how it's going to be, Bruce? Because if so, tell me now and I'll be out of your hair for good." She stared at him. "You and Clark have both made it clear you don't trust me. How can I trust you if you're going to keep things from me?" She crossed her arms. "Is there anything here worth staying for, or should I just make this easy for all of us and go home to Themyscira?"

He shook his head, suddenly sounding tired. "That won't make things easier for any of us, and you know it."

"No," she said frankly. "I don't. Keeping this from me implies that not only do you not trust me… you do not _know_ me."

Bruce stood up. "Not fair."

"No?" she asked, feeling a little satisfaction that she had managed to prick his pride.

"No. We both know you; _I_ know you," he added in an undertone.

Diana snorted and waved her hand, indicating the area around them. "All evidence to the contrary."

"What do you want me to say, Diana?" he snapped. "It's done."

She folded her arms. "I want you to apologize for not trusting me! I want Clark to do the same, and then I want _you_ to promise you won't do this again with _any_ League business –"

"This has nothing to do with the League –" he began.

Diana held up her hand. "Don't start that again. When you involved Superman, you involved the League, and you know it. We've been through that already."

He was silent, which she took to mean she had scored a direct hit. "So, do we have an accord? Or do I leave? Know this Bruce – if I go now, I won't be coming back."

_For anything, or _anyone_._

"Fine."

Diana was still. That one word could mean anything, but when Bruce pulled his cowl back, finally allowing her to see his face, she felt a surge of mingled relief and triumph. If he was about to tell her to go, he would have kept hiding his face behind his mask. He lifted his chin and stared her in the eye. "I'm sorry."

She nodded. "Apology accepted."

Neither of them commented on the fact that it would take almost nothing for her to forgive Clark for his part in the deception, or that the lack of trust mattered more between them than it did with the Man of Steel. Still, if he needed prompting, then his apology was worthless. She waited in silence.

"And I won't do it again."

Diana exhaled slowly. "Alright. Now, do you need my help with the case?"

"I don't think so," he answered, but in a much gentler tone than normal.

"Very well. I'll be up on the Watchtower if you need my assistance later on."

"What about Clark?" he asked.

Diana smirked. "Let him sweat a bit. I'm sure I'll see him later."

His amusement was obvious. "Agreed."

Chuckling, Diana turned away and put a hand to her ear. "Wonder Woman to…" She trailed off as a horrible thought filled her. She turned back to him. "Bruce… if it ever does become real, the engagement…" she met his eyes, refusing to acknowledge how painful this request was, "you will tell me, won't you? Finding out in the newspapers again is not a desirable prospect."

His expression was serious. "It won't, Diana."

The corner of her mouth lifted up in a sad smile. "I doubt even you can control the leanings of your heart that well, Bruce."

"I know," he chuckled humorlessly, "believe me, I know." His gaze turned more intense. "I've been trying and failing for five years now."

"Maybe you should stop trying then," she whispered without thought, edging closer to him.

He moved forward as well, his hand twitching, as though he wanted to reach out and touch her. "Maybe I should."

Diana swallowed reflexively, and was about to reply when they both heard the clock slide open at the top of the stairs. "I should go." She put her hand up to her ear again. "Wonder Woman to Watchtower. Transport me up."

"_Affirmative."_

"Goodnight, Princess."

She managed her first genuine smile of the day. "Goodnight, Bruce."

Just before she was transported away, Diana saw Clark come down the stairs, still looking rather nervous. Though she did not intend to stay, she nodded to him just as she vanished.

Perhaps the Trinity _could_ recover from this.

* * *

**Salvage:** v. to save something for further use or from destruction; to rescue something from a bad situation.

**Note**: Many, many thanks to **TheLadyIsis** for her invaluable assistance on this. When I started writing this as a sequel to _**Fracture**_, I became quite stumped at one point and it was her brilliant muse that helped me through.


	20. T is for Trimming

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Justice League or Justice League Unlimited. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Trimming**_

* * *

Bruce could hear giggling when he stepped out from behind the clock and into the study. Raising an eyebrow, he glanced around the room. No one seemed to be there. Shaking his head, he pushed the clock back into place and locked it. Turning back around to face the room, he said out loud, "I wonder if Alfred put the cats out."

More giggling, though this time it sounded as though it was being muffled.

Bruce cocked his head. "What's that? Doesn't sound like a cat." He strode across the room and peered behind the wingback chair nestled in the corner. "Hmm, nothing here. Where could it be?"

Again, giggles permeated the room.

Smirking, Bruce moved over to the desk and picked up a few papers and opened the two drawers on either side. "Nothing in here either. Is it a ghost?" he asked.

There was no response of giggling this time, but Bruce had already pinpointed its origin. Stepping back from the desk, he swept down and grasped the small figure hiding beneath the desk. Careful not to allow any heads to hit the desk, Bruce pulled the child out.

Laughter bubbled out of the boy as he peered down at his father. "Daddy!" the four-year-old cried.

Bruce stared at him mock-sternly. "Why are you hiding in here, Stephen Thomas Wayne? Shouldn't you be with you mother, or Grandpa Alfred?"

Stephen shook his head. "Mommy said get you."

"Oh really? And what does she want?"

"Come to living room to help with Chris'mas tree," Stephen told him.

Bruce snorted under his breath. It figured. Every year, Diana found a way to ambush him and drag him into decorating the house for Christmas. This was the first time she'd ever finagled one of the children into her plans, though.

"Oh, she does, does she?" he asked. Stephen nodded emphatically, so Bruce answered, "Well, then we shouldn't keep Mommy waiting."

Swinging Stephen into his right arm, Bruce walked out of the study and down the hallway toward the living room. He could hear voices coming from the room in question, one female, one male, and both familiar. Coming to a halt in the doorway, he looked inside.

The enormous Christmas tree was set up to the right of the fireplace. The lights were already wrapped around it and plugged in at the back, helping to light up the room in a web of reds, blues, yellows, and greens. Diana and Alfred were at the couch, which was covered in boxes full of ornaments, each holding up ropes of garland. Across the room, by the tall windows, the playpen was set up. Inside, the one-and-a-half-year-old Lydia Sophia was standing and holding a stuffed rabbit in one hand, the rabbit's ear in her mouth, and grasping the webbing in the other. Her blue eyes were glued to her mother, but she must have caught Bruce's movement at the doorway, because she turned toward them. Suddenly, she dropped the rabbit and called out, "Da! Da! Da!"

Lydia's cries caught Diana and Alfred's attention and they turned, first toward the baby and then to the door. Diana stared at Bruce and, noticing Stephen balanced on his hip, she smirked.

"Mommy," Stephen said, pointing at Bruce, "I bring Daddy!"

"I can see that, sweetheart," she replied, "thank you very much for getting him."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I take it you need me, Princess?"

"Yes, I do," she said. She held out the garland rope. "We need help putting the garland on."

"Really?" he asked. "You got the lights on easily enough."

Diana's brow wrinkled. "Not really," she admitted. "Alfred and I nearly fell off the chair multiple times trying to get them on at the top."

"Ah." Diana and Alfred had set a rule ever since her first Christmas in the Manor – no use of meta abilities to decorate the place. Everything had to be done the 'traditional' way.

Bruce rolled his eyes dramatically and set Stephen down. The boy immediately moved over toward the playpen. While Lydia's toys were inside it, Stephen's Legos were scattered around it on the floor. He happily sat down and started to play, having lost interest in the adults. Lydia too was no longer paying attention, and had picked her rabbit up again.

"Well," he said, taking the garland, "it seems you caught me again, Princess. How will you do it next year, send Lydia down into the Cave and not even have her wait until I get up into the house?"

She grinned and leaned close enough to press her lips against his cheek for a brief moment. "You could always stop acting like the Grinch and volunteer to help," she murmured into his ear. "''Tis the season', Bruce."

* * *

**Trimming:** n. something attached as a decoration; v. to decorate something.


	21. U is for Ubiquitous

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Ubiquitous**_

* * *

She was everywhere; it was like he could never escape her. Well, he supposed, that was hardly unusual. His life had been that way ever since she had first entered it, completely naïve and innocent to the ways of the world beyond the island on which she had been born. It had taken him time to become used to her effect on him, even more to admit openly to anyone other than himself. Eventually, though, he had, and he had never regretted it.

Diana was still everywhere to him, but now it was different. While her presence was still strong around him, Bruce knew that her true self was no longer elsewhere for him to go in search for. He would never again find her at the Metro Tower, or up on the Watchtower. She wasn't even on Themyscira, visiting her mother and sisters.

No, Diana was gone for good now.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Bruce was supposed to be the one who died. Whether at the hand of some random villain or to the ravages of time, he was not supposed to be the survivor. Not this time.

Nonetheless, he was. Because of an ambush created by the returned Darkseid and Lex Luthor, Diana of Themyscira was dead. She wasn't the only casualty in the League – Vixen, Fire, and Plastic Man had also died at their hands – but it was her death that affected him the most. It was one of the few times that he had been genuinely tempted to break his most sacred rule. Luthor had been in his grasp. It would have taken just a few short, quick movements and his neck –

But he hadn't. Dealing out death had never been his creed. Diana had understood that.

No matter where he went, Bruce couldn't escape her. If he hid himself in the Batcave, he would recall all the times she had transported there, intent on getting him to come out into the sunlight. If he patrolled Gotham, he would remember the times she occasionally met him on one rooftop or another, sometimes to provide him with information and other times to just tease him with her presence. The Manor was much the same. He didn't even bother going to the Watchtower or Metro Tower to try to break away from her.

He stared at the memorial in front of him. Various cities throughout the world had built them in tribute to the princess who had saved them at one time or another. This one was in Paris. Paris, the City of Lights, the city Diana had loved more than perhaps any other. After their first meeting here, she had come back to it many times, sometimes with him accompanying her, sometimes alone. The city's spirit spoke to her on a level that other cities could not.

Bruce sucked in a deep breath of cool, morning air and looked around at his surroundings. The Parisians had placed Diana's memorial in an almost hidden glade within one of their parks. Though everyone knew it was there, it seemed as though only a few visited it at one time, so as not to disturb the beautiful little clearing.

He had no idea if Diana had ever been here, in this place, but just like every other place he went to, her presence was tangible. She would have loved this spot if she had seen it, Bruce thought. If he closed his eyes, he could almost fool himself into thinking that she was right behind him, leaning over to breathe in the scent of the flowers that grew in abundance here.

Bruce idly wondered if Demeter had ensured the continuing beauty of this place, so that it did justice to the one to whom it had been dedicated.

_Bruce…_He could almost hear her voice speaking to him.

Diana was everywhere, because she had loved the entire world. There truly was no escape from that, and Bruce wasn't entirely sure he wanted to.

* * *

**Ubiquitous:** adj. existing everywhere.


	22. V is for Victory

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Victory**_

* * *

They'd won. The _Daily Planet_ building was in ruins, but they'd won. Darkseid was gone, his fleet retreating from Earth. Lex Luthor was gone. The Legion of Doom was on the run, being cheerfully pursued by practically the entire Justice League.

Bruce watched Clark's eyes constantly drift in the direction of his paper's demolished building and tried not to roll his eyes. Subtlety would never be the Kryptonian's strong suit.

"Kent," he snapped harshly. Bruce smirked inwardly when Clark jumped, a guilty look crossing his face.

"Yeah?"

"Go find Lane. You're too distracted to do much good here right now."

Clark blinked at him, clearly surprised. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his lips. "Wow, Bruce," he said, "you really _are_ going soft, aren't you? First giving the bad guys a head start, now telling me to go check on Lois. What's next? Helping Wally decorate the Metro Tower for Valentine's Day?"

Bruce growled warningly, but the other man just laughed before leaping into the air and flying off into the Metropolis skyline.

"That was really very sweet of you."

He closed his eyes. He really was beginning to regret his generosity in letting Clark off the hook. _Note to self_, he thought. _Never cut the Kryptonian a break if said Kryptonian and the Amazon are just going to tease you about it._

"_Sweet_," he replied, disgust rolling off of him for even having to say the word, "had nothing to do with it. He's so busy worrying about his girlfriend to be much help in rounding up the Legion. He'd be a liability in battle and someone could get hurt."

Bruce didn't have to turn around to see the smirk on Diana's lips. Her amusement was palpable in the very air.

"Of course," she said mockingly. "Never let it be said that Batman isn't thinking strategically and considering all possible outcomes."

He grunted, but didn't disagree with her.

She appeared beside him, and he immediately saw that her eyes were practically sparkling with mischief.

_Oh great. What's she up to?_

"I wonder," she said, "if Batman's considered what would be required to stimulate the outcome of us having dinner this evening?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, even though there was no possible way she could see it behind his mask.

Diana just kept smirking at him, her eyes full of promises.

* * *

**Victory: **n. win; success.


	23. W is for Waif

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Justice League or Justice League Unlimited. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Waif**_

* * *

After spending literally decades of his life serving the Wayne family, Alfred Pennyworth had become used to unusual situations. Master Bruce's nighttime activities – the ones that did not involve one of the silly socialites of Gotham, that is – had become rather par for the course. From the early years spent on his own putting the city to rights, to Master Dick joining the crusade, to Miss Barbara's eventual involvement and the friction it had caused, to Master Tim completing the set, Alfred had witnessed it all.

When the Justice League had first formed, Alfred had felt a sense of hope. While he knew very well that Master Bruce cared fiercely for his sons and Miss Barbara, Alfred also knew that Master Bruce kept them at arms' length because he considered himself responsible for their safety. Even after Master Dick struck out on his own and re-forged himself as Nightwing, Master Bruce still did everything he could to make sure his son was safe. With the other League members, however, it was different. These were all established heroes, people who knew how to survive on their own. Superman, Green Lantern, Hawkgirl, and the Flash were all seasoned crime fighters, had saved their respective areas many times and knew how to take care of themselves. They did not need Master Bruce to look after them.

As the League continued to grow and work together, Alfred kept a close watch on how Master Bruce behaved in regards to them. Though he did not say so out loud – saying such things was not the younger man's way, after all – Master Bruce respected all six of them deeply. It pleased Alfred to no end, watching his former ward become more sociable – relatively, anyway – with the other members of the League.

The wake of the Thanagarian invasion was something of an eye-opener as well. With the destruction of the Watchtower, both Wonder Woman – Miss Diana – and J'onn J'onzz were left with nowhere else to go. Naturally – that is, with some prodding on Alfred's part – Master Bruce offered them rooms within the Manor until the new Watchtower could be constructed. It was during those ensuing months that Alfred began to see Master Bruce's attraction to the Amazon princess, and her reciprocation of that attraction.

Alfred had actually been a little wary at first. His master's history with women was hardly stellar. Miss Beaumont, Miss Kyle, and Miss al Ghul were cankers in Bruce's past, and the vapid socialites that he consorted with only exacerbated the situation. In time, however, he began to see that Miss Diana was quite different from the women of Master Bruce's past. Whereas his previous loves had all been worldly women each in their own ways, Miss Diana had been refreshingly innocent in comparison. She had not been raised in this world, and thus had not been subjected to its influences since childhood. Coming from a disciplined warrior culture left her as someone who was, in many ways, much like Master Bruce, though Alfred doubted that the master saw it that manner.

He occasionally bore witness to Master Bruce's continued interactions with Miss Diana over the years, watched them grow closer and dance around one another, only to inevitably watch something knock one or both of them away from each other. Despite these instances, though, the two remained firm friends, much to Alfred's relief. The younger man had few true friends, and it warmed him to know that the Amazon was one who stubbornly hung onto that friendship.

Much of this had become routine, and that indicated to Alfred that something was bound to happen. Heaven forbid anything become easy or low-key in the lives of heroes.

It started the day after Master Bruce was scheduled to share a surveillance session with Miss Diana. Master Bruce did not return in the early hours in the morning, an unusual occurrence of itself. He eventually left a message on the computer in the Cave stating that he was on the Watchtower, and that something had happened to Diana during the stakeout. Naturally, Alfred had been concerned for the princess' welfare.

Master Bruce did not return until late the next evening, well after Master Tim and Miss Barbara had left to patrol the city. Alfred had indeed seen many strange things in his time, but watching Master Bruce appear in the cave with a child sound asleep in his arms was one of the strangest. Especially when he got a close look at the little girl, and recognized her as the Amazon princess.

The next six months proved rather surreal. The princess had been regressed to a child thanks to the meddling of Morgaine le Faye, and had no memory of her adult life. Alfred did not know the particulars of the situation, but had been told that Miss Diana would be staying with them for the foreseeable future. That, in turn, meant creating a cover story so that she could fit into Bruce Wayne's public life.

It turned out to be one of the more unusual times of their lives. The house had always been filled to the brim with young men. A lady had not been in residence since Mrs. Wayne. Miss Diana – who was now posing as Master Bruce's daughter by one of his many lady fairs who was conveniently unavailable at a private rehabilitation retreat – was a remarkably stubborn child. She recalled her life on Themyscira and did not understand in the beginning why her mother insisted that she live in Man's World, but in time she became accustomed to her life.

What truly marveled Alfred, however, was the change Miss Diana's presence wrought with Master Bruce's behavior. She was no longer the woman he had known, but a young girl in need of guidance in a world that was even more alien to her than when she had first left her island home. He became very considerate of her, spending a great deal of time with her. Alfred even spotted Master Bruce taking Miss Diana out onto the grounds to the swing attached to the large oak tree in the gardens. Of course, Alfred was not so foolish as to point out the changes in his behavior. He knew that to do so would only result in vehement denials, and quite possibly he might begin to avoid the princess. Therefore, Alfred said nothing.

In the following months, Alfred watched Miss Diana become a part of the family. Master Tim took to her quite well, treating her as a younger sister. She was highly curious about the Cave, and Master Tim began to spend hours down there, teaching Miss Diana how to use the computers and other gadgets. That instruction turned out to be lifesaving roughly four months later.

Master Bruce had gone on a business trip to London, leaving Master Tim and Miss Barbara to look after Gotham. Miss Diana had been watching Master Tim's patrol and thus was witness to the Joker and Harley Quinn kidnapping him. Her quick action in alerting Miss Barbara and directing her onto the villains' path likely saved Master Tim's life. Master Bruce rushed home the moment he was informed of the situation, and Alfred saw the shaken expression in his eyes, his mind no doubt filled with imagined horrors that the Joker would have inflicted on the boy if it had not been for Diana.

Christmas was received with great joy that year, the first in quite a long time. Miss Diana was unfamiliar with the holiday, but both Masters Dick and Tim were happy to introduce the tradition to her. Even Master Bruce, usually dour throughout the holiday, was dragged in by her subsequent enthusiasm.

Things were getting along splendidly. That should have been the first clue to Alfred that it would not, could not last.

It ended as suddenly as it began, really, and Master Bruce was just as vague on how it ended as on how it started. All Alfred really knew was that the curse Morgaine le Faye had placed on Miss Diana had been lifted, and she had returned to her adult self, with her memories intact.

Just like that, Wayne Manor went from the happy, cheerful place it had become, to the haunted, shadowy place it had been. With Miss Diana's restoration, it was as though she had taken the very life out of the house with her.

At least, until now. Now she had come back, and was currently sitting at the kitchen table with him, sipping on a cup of tea.

"If I may ask, Miss Diana, why are you here?" he asked her curiously.

She set her teacup down, a faint blush rising up her face. She did not meet his gaze, much as she hadn't in the previous months when she had done something. Most clearly he recalled her and Master Bruce eating a large quantity of candy. It had been a nightmare trying to get her to go to bed that evening due to the high sugar intake.

"It's odd, but I…" she paused, clearly struggling. Then she continued, "I just… feel like I grew up here. I know six months as an eight-year-old is hardly a lifetime, but…"

She trailed off, clearly at a loss as to how to explain herself further. However, Alfred smiled and reached across the table to pat her hand. "You will always be more than welcome here, my dear. I hope you will always remember that."

Miss Diana returned his smile and squeezed his hand in return. "Thank you, Alfred," she whispered. She glanced around the kitchen, a wistful look crossing her eyes. "Not every person is fortunate enough to have had _two_ childhoods and to have treasured them both."

They sat in silence as they finished their tea. Alfred found it most soothing, continuing a ritual they had established during her time living in the Manor. As he started to gather up their teacups, she asked, "Is he here?" She did not have to elaborate on who she was talking of.

Alfred nodded. "In the Cave, Miss Diana."

She shook her head. "He spends too much time down there," she muttered, and then a small, rueful grin crossed her lips. It was a comment she had made many times in the past months.

After she left the kitchen, Alfred continued cleaning up everything used to make the tea. However, Miss Diana was not down in the Cave more than five minutes, when he saw her walk past the kitchen again, Master Bruce's hand clasped firmly in hers as they moved toward the back door and out into the gardens.

Alfred stood at the window, drying one of the teacups and watching them. They walked directly toward the large oak tree that sported a single rope swing. Miss Diana stepped up to it and sat down on it while Master Bruce remained standing in front of her, just a few feet away. Alfred could see Miss Diana's lips moving, though he could not comprehend what she was saying. He did, however, see a bright, happy smile spread across her face when Master Bruce suddenly walked behind her and began to push her on the swing.

Alfred chuckled to himself. He watched them for a few moments before returning his concentration to his work.

Perhaps things were not so hopeless after all. Perhaps they would be able to move forward, changed by the experience, and would not destroy what they had built in the past six months.

Childhood had worked another miracle, it seemed.

* * *

**Note:** TheLadyIsis also assisted me with an earlier incarnation of this story, because she's just that amazing. Many thanks!

**Waif:** n. abandoned child; thin young person.


	24. X is for Xylograph

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Justice League or Justice League Unlimited. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Xylograph**_

**

* * *

**

Antigone, warrior, Amazon of Themyscira, and woodcarver stared at her latest creation. A warm, dry breeze swept through her workshop.

The carving was to be a gift for Queen Hippolyta, in celebration of her daughter's first anniversary of her arrival among the Amazons. The carving was still very indistinct, as Antigone had barely begun it. It was proving more difficult than she had initially anticipated. Right now one side of the wood block had vague shapes that would become arms and legs, but something just didn't quite seem right.

Antigone would be the first to say that her talents as a carver were god-given, she just did not quite know which god. Hephaestus, perhaps, with his penchant for creating things? Though, Hephaestus was more inclined to use wood for kindling than carving. She sometimes thought that another god might have been responsible for her talents if only for what her carvings sometimes became. When she was much younger, she had done a bust carving of a man. It had been quite a scandal at the time to her teacher, and so Antigone rarely mentioned the bust to anyone.

Years later, however, when the Amazons had chosen to go to the aide of the Trojans in their war against the Mycenaeans, Antigone had gone as well – and received an enormous shock. When they had come to Troy, chance had given Antigone an opportunity to meet the king of the Trojans, Priam. Her eyes had laid upon the weary old man, weighed heavily by the death of his beloved son, Hector, and Antigone had found herself staring at the man who had inspired that bust she had created so many years ago – without even laying eyes upon him.

It had been fate, perhaps prophecy. Which meant the god of prophecy had had a hand in it. Apollo, twin brother to the huntress, Artemis.

Point in fact, the bust was not the only carving that had turned out to be prophetic. Antigone had made a carving of a man and a woman, he dark-haired and bearded and she blonde and wise-looking. Antigone later identified them as Hades and Hippolyta. She had somehow predicted the relationship that would consign the Amazons to stand guard at the gate to Tartarus for all eternity.

Antigone took a deep breath and raised her tools to the block again, shaking her head. Now was not the time for introspection. The celebration was tomorrow evening, leaving her with a limited amount of time to finish her gift for Queen Hippolyta and Princess Diana.

She worked for hours, barely stopping to rest. Her hands moved of their own accord, her mind grew hazy with half-formed images…

… a dark-haired woman in the armor of Athena…

… a mysterious, shadowed man, his arms crossed in a gesture of stubbornness…

… two figures dancing together in a large room…

… two figures standing on a rooftop, content in one another's presence…

… the woman in a bed, a swaddled bundle in her arms, the man sitting next to her, smiling…

When Antigone finished, she stared at her work and swallowed hard. There was no way she could present this work to the queen. Shaking her head in frustration, she picked up the carving and set it aside with many of her other works. She then chose a new block of wood to begin again.

She refused to look at the first carving again, lest she be forced to give voice to the knowledge in her heart.

Princess Diana was not meant to remain on Themyscira forever. Her destiny lay in Man's World, to stand side by side with a man. To _love_ that man.

The queen would not be pleased. Antigone wished Apollo would not foist such knowledge upon her.

* * *

**Xylograph:** n. wood engraving; print from a wood engraving.


	25. Y is for Yacht

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Yacht**_

* * *

Diana stared at the vessel in front of her, shocked. "It's… a little big," she pointed out weakly.

Bruce shrugged. "People won't buy Bruce Wayne cruising the Atlantic in a rowboat," Princess."

She made an exasperated noise in the back of her throat. "I know that, but really, Bruce, did you have to get the biggest one on the market?" she asked. "Why in the world would we need a boat with all of this space?" Diana narrowed her eyes at him. "You said this one was for us, so we won't be entertaining the social masses on it…"

He shook his head and put on his sunglasses on. "No, we won't, but since this is an alternative way to visiting Themyscira, I figured it might be good to have a ship big enough to host your mother and some of your sisters on it, if they'd like to come aboard."

His suggestion was completely reasonable – even if Diana doubted that most of her sisters would ever condescend to come aboard a ship made by men – but there was _something_ in his tone… something…

"Wait a minute," she said quietly, "isn't it some male fantasy to be on a huge boat with many women on it wearing nothing but swimsuits?" She was fairly certain she recalled Wally saying something about it once.

Bruce didn't crack under her suspicious tone, but she knew him well enough to notice how he seemed to be hiding behind those sunglasses. "I don't know what you're talking about, Princess. Though, if you'd like to walk around on the yacht in nothing but a bikini, I certainly won't complain."

The leer on his face would be enough to feed the photographers several yards away for a week.

Diana rolled her eyes and followed her husband onto the yacht.

* * *

**Yacht:** n. sailboat; motorboat for cruising.


	26. Z is for Zenith

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Justice League_ or _Justice League Unlimited_. I merely write this for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others.

* * *

_A to Z, an Anthology  
**Zenith**_

* * *

The Paris skyline was as beautiful as Diana remembered it. She could see the Eiffel Tower, towering over the city as it always did, as well as several other famous landmarks. Closing her eyes, Diana took a deep breath, allowing the cool evening air into her lungs.

It felt wonderful, to be able to relax and not have to keep one eye out for some nameless villain. Diana honestly could not recall the last time she had been able to do something like that. Perhaps it had been even before she had first come to Man's World.

The sound of the door opening and closing caught her attention and she turned around. There was only one lamp on in the room, but it provided ample enough light for both her and the room's new occupant to see each other.

"All done?" Diana asked.

He nodded. "It's all arranged. We won't be disturbed."

"Good." She turned back to the view their room offered. A moment later, Bruce crossed the room and came to a halt just behind her. His arms came to wrap around her and gently pulled her back to rest against him. Diana tilted her head to her left when he rested his chin on her right shoulder.

"Kent called me while I was down there," he spoke up.

"Oh?"

"Said everything's quiet. He also promised it would take an Omega-level emergency to make the League call us home. Queen and Sage even agreed to help Barbara and Tim in Gotham if they need it," he said.

She nodded. "Excellent." She then turned in his embrace and looked up into his eyes. "Enough shop talk," Diana murmured, lifting her arms up to run her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "You swore we'd have a stress-free honeymoon. Now put your money where your mouth is."

Bruce smirked down at her just before their lips clashed together. His hands tightened on her waist and it seemed like he was trying to pull her even closer.

Diana smiled against his lips. She honestly didn't think life could get any better than this.

* * *

**Zenith:** n. highest point.

**Author's Note:** Well, there you have it, readers. Twenty-six chapters for twenty-six letters of the alphabet. I hope everyone has enjoyed themselves. I'd like to thank the readers for sticking with me, even when technical difficulties prevented me from posting chapters for a while. I'd also like to offer one last thank you to TheLadyIsis, whose assistance was instrumental in finishing quite a few of these one-shots. It's been loads of fun, ladies and gentlemen. See you around!


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